


The Perfumed Garden

by mynameislizzie2



Category: Skins (UK)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-02-19 13:46:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 54,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13124976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameislizzie2/pseuds/mynameislizzie2
Summary: My attempt to put the Skins characters into 16th Century Constantinople. The names are slightly different, but hardly unrecognisable. The character traits are certainly familiar apart from Cook, who is an out and out villain and is the subject of some violence. Mama and Papa Fitch come into it as well as Gina Campbell as herself...just slightly renamed. Rest assured there will be sex, heartache and drama. Just that Roundview is replaced with the Topkapi  Palace in what is now called Instanbul.





	1. Intro

OK. This might all go spectacularly wrong...just know that right off. I’m still finishing off what will be the last two chapters of Harley Dreams, so don’t worry, that will still be my priority. But lets take a little trip back in time, both in rl and my imagination. A while back, many months ago...I started a story called, yes you guessed it, “Perfumed Garden’ It was a bit of a departure for me. Most of my stories follow a somewhat familiar pattern. By that I mean they’re set in a relatively contemporary Naomily world. The girls are either in their late teens or early twenties and meet up under various guises and plot devices. Its a simple story arc...girl meets girl, falls in love, things get complicated and usually hearts are either broken or badly bruised. I never give them an easy ride (stop it) but almost always they end up in the position of riding on a wave of pure love to eventual nirvana in the final chapter.

I do love me a bit of happy Naomily, specially at the end. A couple of things you can guarantee with me is that there will be liberal amounts of smut and angst, plus the occasional bit of infidelity. No one said we can’t play around with their emotions before we give them some joy, did they?

But Perfumed Garden was a definite left turn for me. For a start its set in the dim distant past, when Suleiman the Great had only recently departed this mortal coil. His son was on the Ottoman throne and as Sultan, he had the power of life and death over every lowly subject in his vast and widespread empire. Lives were cheap and women had very little if any say in their futures. An absolute despot is on the jewel encrusted throne and lots of nasty middlemen are jockeying for favour and influence below the gilded Royal chambers. 

Sort of a mediaeval Donald Trump type dynasty? Without tweets.

Chief of these courtiers is the Grand Vizier. Think a sort of supercharged Prime Minister (not the useless object we currently have in Downing Street) with lots more clout and a prodigious appetite for young flesh and the other earthly delights of the capital city.

So...a glorious palace, all marble, gold, silks and exotic objet d’art as far as the eye can see. Everyone scared shitless of the Vizier and his odious enforcer. The Sultan nominally ruling over everyone, but for obvious reasons, not able to oversee everything that goes on. 

Dramatis Personae ...see I did read some Shakespeare at college...(at least I know Voldemort isn’t in Hamlet, Pandora Moon...yes you…) are as follows.

Shelim 1st the Sultan – as himself

The Grand Vizier Kamal – as himself

The Royal enforcer – Cuk (also known to us as Cook)

Gia – Gina Campbell, a once beautiful blonde concubine, captured on a raid of the Greek island of Lesbos years before, who has borne the Sultan a single girl child, who is…

Naomi – who else. The stunning blue eyed teenage natural blonde (no peroxide in those days) who captures the heart (and provokes lust) of everyone who claps eyes on her. Sadly that includes the Vizier and Cuk.

Emilia - Ahh, who else but our Ems. The gloriously beautiful but low born twin daughter of Nergis (Jenna) and Ramazan (Rob), dark haired and liquid eyed, finding out rapidly that other girls can be a lot of fun.

Katerina – none other than KFF. Less sweary and alcohol fixated than the one we’re used to, but equally feisty and unlike her delicious twin, immune to the power of the pussy.

The story will follow their lives and how they collide, in the city now known as Istanbul. Other characters will also appear. Thomas would make a wonderful Nubian eunuch, yeah...all broad smiles and muscles?

But without giving too much away, which isn’t difficult because I only have rough notes and plot ideas from the previous attempt to write this, I will be posting the first proper chapter in a week or two. Certainly, I’ll be working on it during putting up the last two chapters of Harley.

Of course, if no one wants to read it, feel free to let me know and I’ll find something more productive outside FF to do!

Form an orderly queue...

Lizzie


	2. The cast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introduction to the girls and others

HI there. First ‘real’ chapter then. As a change from my normal style, this will be in third person narrative. It just seemed to flow better. Much as I like putting myself in the girls’ heads, I think this is an improvement. You decide. In any case, this chapter will be a bit ‘M’ ‘in nature. There is a fair bit of scene setting and character introduction in this one and the next too. I apologise for any unwanted descriptions. Life in 16th century Constantinople was nasty brutal and short in the main. People took their pleasure as and when they found it because death was a lot more imminent than it is nowadays. Some of the pleasure is attractive to hear about, some not so. Take that as a trigger warning I guess? I promise that the basis for this story is 100% Naomily. But it may be a rocky journey before the magic happens...

Mistakes and obvious historical inaccuracies are all my own work. The characters, even if they’re wildly at odds with the Roundview versions, remain the property of the death eaters who ruined them in S7. Boo hiss.

Constantinople 1574.

Dawn and life in general rises early in the great palace towering over its sprawling hub of humanity below. The sun, which would later glower in the sky like a celestial furnace over the heads of its citizens, had only minutes ago slipped pale orange and yellow fingers over the horizon. Long shadows still hung heavy in the deserted streets. Evidence of the nights horrors as yet uncleared from the dusty narrow roads and alleyways. A purse here...cut from the still living fingers of an unwary traveller. An earthenware bottle there, its contents long gone, rolled into the makeshift gutter by a grimy doorway. The residents of this once supreme city are mostly Muslim and therefore technically teetotal, but where there are men...and women to satisfy their carnal needs... alcohol was still available to a selected few.

A dog yelped as it was released with a desultory kick from the building it called home. It crossed the street still limping from the blow, then sniffed curiously at a silent bundle lying a few yards down the way, probably the unfortunate traveller. Streams of drying blood ran in parallel lines from the back of the mans head, his eyes staring upwards at the indifferent sky, opaque and unseeing. The dog sniffed again then, hungry as always...scraps from the table being in short supply on most days... began to lap the unexpected crimson bounty from the ground. Its eyes darting from side to side, body tensed as it crouched over its prize, ready for instant fight or flight. Sooner rather than later someone or something bigger and stronger would come along. Such policing which existed in the city was sparse and lazily undertaken, but a human body on the footpath would still attract unwelcome eyes, even if it was just from the illegal tavern keeper next to it. No one wanted that sort of attention from the irregular palace patrols. Bribery and the offer of one of the owners daughters to ‘entertain’ the guards against a wall would only go so far. Once a resident saw the stiffening corpse, it would be quickly dragged to somewhere less...conspicuous. Like the stinking, open sewer which ran alongside the main street. There it would mix with the effluent of the inhabitants, running into the great river Bosphorus, giver of life to all of Constantinople, rich and poor. But not of course to the unfortunate footpad victim. His race was run, his property even now being bartered in a back street thieves kitchen.

The dog gnawed ravenously on an exposed hand. No time for subtlety here. 

Above the city, the palace started to come to life too. The smoke from a hundred newly raked cooking fires sent tendrils of grey and white into the pale air. Some fragrant, fed by sandalwood and pine, some acrid...the wood scavenged from anywhere it could be stolen or hacked. 

Inside the tall marble walls, servants were already energetically scuttling around. Fires to be lit, baths to be filled, food prepared, clothes folded and placed alongside dozens of silken beds. A thousand slaves, attending to a hundred or so nobility. The Sultan, His Highness Selim the Second would of course be attended to by a carefully selected and vetted group of body servants, expensively uniformed and scrupulously clean. It was not for the ruler of this empire to see or smell poverty in any form. His personal servants and the equally impressive Palace Imperial Guard were the best of the best. His emergence into the new day would be carefully choreographed and managed. A bath, in hot and scented water, then jewel encrusted outer clothing placed over his silken undergarments, then a breakfast of stuffed melon, roasted pigeon and freshly squeezed fruit juices. Once refreshed and his fast broken, the Sultan would allow his courtiers to lead him to the palace library. Prayers completed, his day would begin at a grand desk, with papers to read and a few brief audiences for lucky petitioners pushed forward by impassive sycophants.

The Grand Vizier too would be treated in the same respectful and fawning manner by his body servants. Maybe the food and bath a little less magnificent. Better not allow his own hubris to compete with his masters, but luxurious nevertheless. His own day would follow a similar pattern. Breakfast, prayers, a walk to his opulent day quarters, then a hundred pressing matters of state to deal with.

Below that level of the gilded palace came a single man.

Cuk.

The Viziers right hand man. Feared by all but his superiors (and even then his sheer physicality was a force to be recognised). Tall for his race, heavily muscled and schooled in several fighting disciplines by his past service in the Imperial Guard, This man had seen war in all its bloody, destructive power. But Cuk had been selected for more than just his physical prowess, impressive as it was. His brain was keen and cunning as a fox. Not for nothing had the Vizier selected him as his personal enforcer and confidante.

When Suleiman the Magnificent, bless his name, had been about to pass into the shadow world, the Vizier knew that he had but a few short hours to secure his own masters succession. The old Sultan had six sons, four of whom survived until his death. The oldest Mustafa, was considered to be the favourite to succeed. But the Vizier had tied his future to Selim, the younger brother. He knew that the fate of his benefactor was bleak if Mustafa ascended to the gilded throne. Unsuccessful siblings were routinely strangled by the new Sultans supporters to prevent succession arguments. So he whispered and he conspired. Promises were made and later broken without a care. 

Mustafa was summoned to a meeting in his fathers quarters. The old Sultan was on the point of death, unable to speak or command his court. What was required was instant and lethal action.

Cuk provided that lethality with efficiency and relish.

Mustafa was dispatched in the time honoured fashion while kneeling beside his pale skinned father, Cuk strangling him with a silken cord even as the prince prayed for his fathers eternal soul.

Inside a day, Selim was pronounced as the sole lawful successor to his father. The Vizier and Cuk ruthlessly suppressed any dissent, sometimes by force, sometimes by bribery. It mattered not. The result was the same. The other brothers, other than the one who conveniently succumbed to dysentery a week later, were mysteriously disappeared. No one asked awkward questions.

Now, a decade or more later, Cuk was the unchallenged power behind his masters Prime Ministerial throne. The Grand Vizier had the ear of the Sultan and the run of the palace, excepting the Sultans private chambers and of course, the harem. This compound was home to three dozen or more wives and concubines. Out of bounds to all but the Sultan himself and the impassive eunuchs. Mainly of Nubian origin, hugely muscled and impressive, but less than complete men. A danger to intruders, but not to to the gossiping and competing women in their charge.

This morning found Cuk up early as usual. He was not in a happy mood. His chosen bed companion had been somewhat...disappointing. A captured Egyptian slave girl, fresh from a boat in the harbour sent on that particular mission. He like his master, had a prodigious appetite for young flesh. Dozens, maybe hundreds of frightened virgins had graced his private chambers over the past decade. Most, after the generous application of Greek or Balkan wine and the promise of eventual escape from the noisy market place and its slave traders, surrendered to his not so subtle entreaties. They had little choice in truth. Cuk got almost as much pleasure from a reluctant victim as a willing one. But this girl had been particularly difficult. Cried and wailed pitifully throughout. Quite spoiled his pleasure.

He got his way in the end of course, bending her over a barrel and pounding her reluctant body from behind, but she was obviously useless as a plaything afterwards. He sent for his senior commander at the first light of dawn and had him take away the sobbing, dark eyed waif. Her destination was to be the main barracks. She would find out that common soldiers care nothing for reluctant recently deflowered virgins. But he was still frustrated.

Frustrated enough to be reckless. 

Which was why he was now walking briskly along a rarely travelled dark corridor. No one else saw or heard him. Well apart from the youth he’d found crouching outside his quarters when he emerged. One of the recent additions from the expedition to the Greek islands. No more than a child...maybe 14 summers. Dark eyed and innocent of face. Girlish almost. 

Cuk first cuffed him with one meaty hand for being in the way, then his brain whispered to him that the boy could be useful in this mission. He brusquely ordered the youth to drop his cleaning materials. Someone else would have to clean his quarters this fine morning, Cuk had another use for him.

The boy trotted alongside the tall man fearfully. Only once before had he been singled out for personal treatment. It did not sit well in his memory. Better to be anonymous, insignificant. Part of the furniture. But he’d been in the wrong place then too. Just bad luck. His heart sank as they turned a corner together, walking quickly down a corridor he had never seen before. Dark, lit by just a couple of guttering torches. He feared his destination...but he feared Cuk much more, so he suppressed his whimpers and followed obediently, one pace behind.

Eventually they got to a single, heavily barred gate. Cuk slid a key into the sturdy lock and it opened smoothly. Once inside, the man locked it behind him. Now the boy was even more frightened. If he displeased his master, he might never see the other side of that gate again. But again he smothered his fright.

Another walk along an even darker corridor and they were before a huge studded wooden door. Again a key was used and the timber creaked ominously as it opened. Obviously not used very much. Cuk cuffed him again as he hesitated in the doorway. He forced his trembling limbs to obey him and stepped inside.

It was musty and dark in there. His heart thumped as he moved forward blindly, feeling with his small hands in front of him. What was this place...a store cupboard…?

Suddenly his hands met cool brick and he stopped dead. He could hear Cuk’s breathing behind him as he waited for an order. Heavy, regular breathing. The mans very presence was intimidating. He was spun in a circle until he faced the door, which was being swung shut as he looked at it, yearning to be the other side.

Above him, out of his eyeline, the man slid some sort of panel aside. It moved almost without a sound, as if it had been liberally oiled. A small amount of light entered the room and the boy could now see the mans body inches in front of him. 

A memory stirred...then a pang of unease...why would Cuk bring him all this way if that’s what he...surely his quarters would be…?

That thought was driven from his mind as the man leaned over him and chuckled.

Cuk had been here before...several times. He knew it was forbidden, knew too that if he was caught, even his exalted position in the palace hierarchy would not save him. But the frustration of last night made him forget the possible consequences. And his first glance through the hidden panel made him grin in satisfaction.

For the panel was more than just a piece of wood. It was the key to seeing something no one apart from the Sultan himself saw.

The Harem.

But this morning, not just the harem, with its bevy of scantily clad beauties sitting around gossiping and being pampered by slave girls. This morning, of all mornings, he was witnessing something he had dreamed of many times before. His luck seemed finally to be in.

Inside the large chamber, behind a thinly draped veil which hid her from the rest of the women in the room, a slim blonde girl with alabaster skin and intense blue eyes was being bathed in a marble and gold bath tub. Not just any girl either. The very girl Cuk had coveted ever since he first saw her with her mother, the 6th wife of Selim 2nd. She had only been 12 or so then. Not interesting at all really, flat chested and boyish. But it was her eyes that had made him risk staring at her even then. Like ice on fire, blue as the winter sky. Captivating.

But now, as she was sitting in the bath, being washed down with gentle strokes by the three slave girls attending her, he could see her in all her stunning adolescent glory. Fuller breasted now, her hips beginning to widen. Almost a woman. Cuk licked his lips appreciatively. Delicious, he thought darkly. Like a ripe peach, juicy and soft.

Cuk had been brought up from an adolescent, pounding crudely into dark eyed slave girls and captured conquests. As a soldier, he had been inside many a beautiful woman, willing or not. The high class prostitutes too who were allowed inside the palace for the amusement of the senior ranks, had several outstanding beauties among them.

But none to compare with her...Naomi, daughter of Gia, sixth wife of the Sultan himself. He’d caught a few sneak looks at her since that first encounter, but as she grew and matured, the outside world was gradually being closed to her. Now, as she reached her 16th summer, the next man who would legitimately see her face and that luscious body, apart from her own father, would be the man chosen as her husband.

Cuk knew that his own master, the corpulent and avaricious Grand Vizier, coveted the girl too. He knew that it was impossible even to imagine his own hands being the first ones to explore her body, to take her fully. But if the Vizier was successful in persuading the Sultan that marrying his precious daughter to his closest confidante was politically advantageous, then Cuk would be one step closer to having her. The Vizier was well known as a capricious man. Even this beautiful little pearl would be discarded once he’d ploughed her for a summer or so. Then she’d be abandoned to her fate within the Viziers own group of spiteful wives and concubines. Unlike the Sultan, this group was occasionally available for the entertainment of a few favoured courtiers. Cuk was a patient man. What was a few months? The Vizier was ageing anyway...the girl would only have to endure a month, maybe three, of mounting the old goat as he lay supine on his oversized bed. Then Cuk might be allowed to take her somewhere private and slake his lust on her slim, nubile body. She would know then the difference between an old man and a virile one.

As the slaves rubbed fragrant soap over that naked body in the bath, Cuk stifled a moan of frustration. So near, but so far. He felt himself gradually stiffening until he was quivering hard.

Then he remembered why he’d brought the boy along. He shuffled a little closer to the wall until he could feel the slaves breath on his naked chest. Breath which was now coming in fast gusts. He’d used the boy once before.,..a while ago. Compliant, that’s what he remembered. Compliant and uncomplaining. Perfect for the task he required now.

He reached down and freed his burgeoning erection from inside the voluminous trousers, keeping his eyes firmly on the girl being bathed. He didn’t need to give instructions. By now he was certain the boy knew exactly what his job was.

The slave boy swallowed hard as the sturdy erection bounced before his gaze, then he knelt in front of his master. Unpleasant as this task was, it was at least less painful than the last time Cuk selected him to slake his hunger. That time he’d had to eat standing up for three full days afterwards and sleep had come slowly to him at night. Until a sympathetic older slave girl had noticed his squirming discomfort and gave him a salve to ease the ache and burning. His embarrassment was amusing to her, but she’d several years ago suffered his masters attentions in the same way and knew what that prodigious member could do to small, untravelled passages.

So, without a murmur of resistance, which he knew anyway would only earn him another meaty cuff on the head, he opened his mouth obediently. He had no idea what Cuk was seeing through that panel in the wall, only that the thing he was now grasping with his small hand was the result. He got to work as diligently as he could. The sooner his efforts succeeded in satisfying his master, the sooner he could return to the servants quarters and sluice his mouth clean with fresh goats milk.

Cuk grunted a couple of times in satisfaction as the boy did his best to increase his excitement. Not as skilled as the painted courtesans in the palace for sure, but the slight clumsiness only added to the pleasure. He was sure Princess Naomi would be equally unused to dealing with what he carried between his legs. It was easy to imagine, as he watched her firm breasts quiver as they were being washed, that it was her innocent pink lips working on him.

Several minutes passed as the girl was washed thoroughly and the boy sucked deliberately.

Finally, as the girl stood up in the bath, revealing her slender form completely, so that the women could finish drying her with soft towels, Cuk’s frustration was resolved. The boy, sensing that Cuk was close, cupped large testicles in one hand and pumped quickly with the other. Cuk bit his hand hard to stop his orgasmic groan alerting anyone inside the harem of their unwelcome voyeur. On the harem side, the lattice panel hid his face.

He reached down quickly and gripped the boys head tight to his body, relishing the startled coughing as he spent his seed forcefully. After a few more seconds, he released the tousled head and pulled himself free of warm suction. 

“Good” was his only comment. The boy stood up silently, head bowed down, as his master rearranged his clothing and, after sliding the panel closed with an almost imperceptible click, let them both out of the room. The walk back to Cuk’s quarters was made in the same silence their outward journey had. Once in the better lit corridors of the main palace, Cuk stopped, leaned down and gripped the boys head tightly in both hands. His eyes were as cold as a cobras.

“Your utter silence about this morning is the only thing keeping your head on your shoulders..understand boy?” he growled menacingly.

The youth shivered and nodded frantically. Unwelcome personal duties aside, he knew this employment was as good as it got for a Greek slave boy. A few minutes unpleasantness was a small price to pay for staying alive another day.

Cuk dipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a single small denomination coin. The boys eyes widened at the sight. Even this small amount was as much as he’d ever seen close up, let alone owned. Cuk pressed the tiny coin into the boys trembling hand.

“Go now...oh and….practice boy, yes?”

The uncertainty on the boys face lasted less than a second. He grinned happily up at the tall man.

“Most certainly lord...I will practice very hard to get better” he said eagerly. Mildly unpleasant it might have been, but for another coin like this one, he would suck the man dry every night if he required him to. He knew at least one older slave boy back in the kitchens who was reputed to enjoy...practising...at night.

XXX

Emilia clung to the voluptupous girl who was trying to rise from the pallet they had been sleeping on together. Her eyes were filled with tears and she whined in protest.

“Yasmina...please...just one more minute? My mother will be a while getting the water and bread?”

The older girl shook her head sadly

“Emilia my sweet...I must get up. Today is my wedding day? Your mother and father will be wondering why I am so tardy. We had fun though, didn’t we my angel?”

Emilia shook her head childishly, although in truth she hadn’t ever had so much ‘fun’ in her short life. Her cousin pulled away from her hands and slipped out from under the single sheet. Her back to Emilia, she sighed at the other girls distress and slim shoulders slumped as her body missed the comfort of the embrace they had been sharing before the cock crowed to announce daylight.

It was the day of her wedding. A wedding that had been arranged a year ago, when she was just 16 summers old, the same age as her cousin was now. She’d only met the groom once, in a room with twenty relatives and the matchmaker. He looked a nice enough fellow. Tall, dark skinned and with a small black beard. No different to a hundred other young men in the city. But this one had been selected for his fathers position. A tailor in the Royal palace no less. And Ahmed the bridegroom was his fathers apprentice. Marriage to him would give Yasmina a future and a place to live inside the walls. 

She sighed again at Emilia’s pained silence. She knew this moment would come, but she hadn’t bargained for the stab of sadness separation was delivering to her too. It was just supposed to be a little fun...something to remember when she suffered under her husbands no doubt clumsy attempts at lovemaking.

A week earlier

The two cousins giggled as they prepared for bed. Yasmina was to sleep in Emilia’s room. Usually the small dark haired girl shared the straw pallet with her twin sister Katerina, but the girls mother had decided that it would be better if the younger, quieter twin shared with her older cousin. Katerina would have to sleep on the cushions at the end of her parents bed for the few days before the ceremony. She was the boisterous one and likely to be more difficult to share a bed with.

The first night, all went as planned. Emilia pestered her cousin for stories about her life to come as a married woman, but that aside, she was sweet and undemanding company. 

It was on the second night that things changed. Yasmina noticed Emilia’s eyes on her as she dropped her day dress to the floor and groped naked for a thin nightdress. The looks she had been getting were making Yasmina’s stomach flip. They were the sort of looks the girl normally got from the boys in the bazaar when she went to fetch pins or cloth for her father. Hungry looks.

At first she decide to ignore it. They were almost of an age...there was barely a year between their births. Maybe her pretty cousin was just curious. After all, her twin sister was physically identical, so maybe this was the first time Emilia had actually seen another girls naked body. They slipped into bed side by side and as Emilia kissed her goodnight and turned onto her side, Yasmina lay on her back and considered the matter.

A few months ago, after the marriage bargain had been agreed, her mother had sent her to yet another older cousins house to stay. She’d said something oblique about her needing to be prepared for her wifely duties. The three days she;d stayed with her cousin were a real revelation. Apparently her duties as a wife would include learning her own body intimately, in order that she could instruct her husband how to please her….and her him.

Yasmina had left after the stay well versed in her own body and the other girls, together with various life like...toys. Now she knew how to instruct her bridegroom on ways to please her. It may be a mans world, but she understood the power her body gave her.

It seemed churlish to keep that information to herself this night. Emilia was almost at marriage age. Soon her own mother would be contacting the local matchmaker. Yasmina sighed as she looked up at the rush ceiling, stars twinkling through the thin gaps. The rest of the house was dead asleep. Emilia’s fathers deep snores could be clearly heard through the thin walls.

Slowly, so as not to alarm her cousin, Yasmina slid a hand down her body, stopping only to caress and knead her sensitive breasts. She knew Emilia wasn’t asleep, her breathing wasn’t slow or regular enough. Gradually, she parted her legs until one thigh pressed against her cousins. She felt the slight jerk as the younger girl registered the contact. But Emilia did not pull away. Yasmina took that as consent and began to slowly caress the place between her legs which always gave her so much pleasure. 

Over a few minutes, her movements became more deliberate, less subtle. She was quickly wet down there...the proximity of her nubile cousin was enough to make her excited. She heard Emilia’s breath catch as the girl listened intently to her movements. Yasmina moved her leg again, widening the gap between her thighs. This was the moment of truth. If her cousin was not interested or merely disgusted, she could stop still, She hadn’t reached the point where it would become impossible to do so.

But Emilia had not been disgusted. Far from it. Although her own explorations had been few and brief, given her twins constant presence, she understood that pleasure lay between her own thighs. She slowly turned in the bed, looking directly at Yasmina. Their eyes met and she knew that something wonderful was about to happen. The anticipation was making her body tingle wildly. But her inexperience made her hesitate. She had to be sure…

“Yasmina...are...are you…?” she whispered nervously. 

The older girl nodded, looking at her curiously. Her hand was still moving under the thin sheet. Emilia glanced down at the sheet moving steadily up and down. Her breath caught in her throat as Yasmina widened her thighs even more. Now their legs were almost entwined. Emilia felt heat flush in her stomach and a heavy sigh left her lips.

“Yes I am Emilia...and it feels wonderful...have you ever…?” Yasmina whispered.

Shyly, Emilia nodded.

“Only once...no twice...it felt so...” words failed her.

“Like this?” Yasmina said huskily, turning towards her cousin and slipping a hand between them. Emilia felt slim fingers sliding up her thighs...damp fingers. It was almost too much...knowing those fingers had just been…

“Oh!” she whispered “...Yasmina...what are you…?”

There really was no doubt what Yasmina was going to do, but it was still a shock, enough for Emilia to reach down and grip the other girls wrist. But it was a faint gesture, no more. When the older girl persisted, Emilia relaxed her hand and that sly journey recommenced. When fingers touched her...there...Emilia gasped again. Louder this time.

“Shhh my angel” Yasmina said in a low voice. “We can have so much fun...you and I ...but you have to be very, very quiet?”

Her fingers were now skilfully probing and stroking Emilia’s moist place. Fingers that were infinitely more clever than her own clumsy attempts. When the girl stopped touching her after a long minutes stroking, the twin almost cried out in protest.

“No...don’t stop Yasmina...that was so...” she hissed urgently.

“Shhh” the other girl said, smiling at her younger cousins distress “...if we take off our night clothes...it can be even better?”

And so it proved. Naked, they clung to each other, Yasmina showering small kisses over the whimpering twins neck, breasts pressed against each other. Emilia shuddered at the overpowering sensations. When Yasmina guided Emilia’s fingers between the older girls thighs, she allowed it without question. Warmth, wetness and slick acceptance greeted her clumsy attempts to replicate the expert fingers soon back between her own legs.

When she came that first time, Yasmina had to smother Emilia’s ecstatic shout with her own lips. They moaned their release into each others mouths frantically, hips bucking and spare hands clawing at exposed skin.

After that night, every bed time since had been an education Emilia had never dreamed of. The first time Yasmina used her mouth on her, she actually screamed into a cushion over her face. The first time Emilia was guided into imitating her cousins use of a tongue, she knew without any doubt that this was something she could not only be good at, but enjoy immensely. By the fourth night, they were pleasuring each other at the same time. Yasmina having to physically push Emilia away from her sex after several incredible orgasms.

“You, my angel, are a very diligent student” she joked as they lay together afterwards. “Maybe too good a student...I fear my husband will never in his life achieve your level of skill?”

Emilia basked in the praise...wrapped in her cousins arms and blissfully content as she’d never been before in her short life.

XXX

But now, on the morning of Yasmina’s wedding, it was all ending. The five nights had been gloriously, ecstatically entertaining. More fun than she’d ever had. But faced with going back to sterile nights in this bed with just her sullen sister for company, she pouted again.

“Please Yasmina….just once more?...I promise I will be sooo quick?” this with a husky giggle.

The older girl sighed, just about to pick up her shift from the floor. She really shouldn’t...the house would be waking in less than half an hour. She turned to say as much again to her cousin, but as she did, Emilia pulled back the sheet, revealing her bold nakedness...one hand already busy between her open thighs.

“That’s very naughty Emilia and….” Yasmina said in resignation as the girl smiled up at her.

“Completely irresistible..?” Emilia laughed cheekily and lifted her arms up.

They fell back on the bed, hands already seeking each other out. Maybe ten more minutes would be safe enough…

XXX

As Emilia was being pleasured by her obliging cousin for the last time, Princess Naomi was arguing with her mother. A familiar morning ritual.

“I still do not understand why I have to be bathed like a child mother? I’m perfectly capable of doing my own washing?”

He mother sighed in resignation. It was the third time this month that her wayward daughter had complained about this.

“Naomi, my pearl...you are a Princess. Princesses do not bathe alone. We have slaves girls for that task. They are gentle with you?” 

Naomi nodded reluctantly

“..and thorough?”

The girl huffed in agreement. A little too thorough, especially the new girl Fatima. Naomi had noticed that the girls fingers lingered on her breasts longer than any of the others and when it came to more...intimate areas... she had been forced more than once to take the soap from the slim North Africans hand, giving it to a less...thorough girl. The fact that the slaves strokes and intrusions had made her squirm in pleasure was by the way. Naomi had barely begun to explore herself alone in her bed...she wasn’t about to lose control in front of a bevy of giggling servants. Even in her innocence, she knew that some of the wives and concubines preferred female caresses. Sex between the occupants of the harem was routinely indulged. But as her mother repeatedly told her...she was different. A princess.

“Well then, there is little to complain about, my precious. Now, I have an audience with my husband the Sultan Pasha this afternoon. Attend to your books daughter, Greek and Latin grammar Naomi...I hear you have been neglecting them of late?”

Gia swept out of her daughters room with an amused smile. Naomi liked to complain, but she was in all other respects a dutiful and respectful daughter. Once out of the girls room though, her brow creased in worry. This audience with the Sultan was an important one. She knew the Grand Vizier was anxious to secure her daughters hand in marriage. She was determined to do everything in her power to prevent that. Her plans for Naomi were still not fully thought through, but they definitely did not involve handing her over to that fat sexual deviant. 

XXX

OK, first chapter done. A bit of (Cuk) Cook nonsense, followed by (Emilia) Emily’s education. Naomi’s story is in the next one, plus a bit of character development for the wonderful Gia (Gina) Oh, and Katerina of course! Do love me a bit of KFF!

Comments? Yes please...


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens

Her footsteps made almost no sound as her silk slippers padded lightly on the marble hallways. She’d taken this journey a hundred no, a thousand times before.

When she was first captured, on her home island one fine spring morning, the captain of the Turkish raiding party which seized her as she carried water for the cooking pot was bright enough to realise his bounty would be dramatically increased if he separated this particular nubile beauty from the other wailing, frightened girls they had roughly kidnapped.

Even then, it was touch and go for a while. The sea journey from her island to the Ottoman mainland capital was short. At least short enough for her not to suffer the acute seasickness affecting some of her fellow passengers. But then, seasickness was the least of their worries after the anchor was weighed and sail was set. A dozen burly sailors, intent on gang rape was a lot more of a pressing worry.

Her younger sister Amira, only fourteen summers old and her best friend Yula were less lucky. The captain only had room for one favoured captive in his quarters. He was highly tempted to sample her tempting body himself, but realised her value would plummet if he removed the one thing the Sultan prized more than blonde hair and innocent blue eyes…her virginity.

So while her sister and friends were taken repeatedly in the stinking crew quarters below, Gia ‘enjoyed’ the benefits her startling fair haired good looks afforded her. A straw pallet to lie on while the vessel pitched uncomfortably and protection from the horrors taking place below was her only comfort.

But the corridor she was now walking down was the her first proper look at the Topkapi Palace back then. Alerted by the captain on arrival, Cuk...the Viziers enforcer... took her from the wooden ramp as she staggered blearily down to the dockside. He steered her, frightened and wide eyed, up a long cobbled byway, passing various armed guards and staring bystanders to the imposing gates of the Palace. It was dark when she arrived, so the first thing she was aware of when they were inside the building was this cool marble floor and the rows of bright torches on both walls, guiding their way to the harem.

Cuk had been more circumspect in those early days. Before he grew jaded with corrupted flesh and emboldened by the protection of his master. The Vizier too, was less impulsive then, sure of nothing until the new Sultan had settled into his role as master of the known world. So she arrived at the harem unmolested apart from some speculative groping of her buttocks and breasts by the leering enforcer. 

That first night in the palace had been utterly bewildering for a simple village girl from that long ago conquered island in the Northern Aegean. Still shocked at her capture and the rape of her sister and friends, she mutely allowed herself to be stripped naked by fussing slave women, bathed thoroughly from head to toe, then anointed with delicately fragrant oils. When she was finally dressed in a plain white shift, her hair dried and combed down her back, she caught a glimpse of herself in a beaten copper panel alongside the bath. The person staring back at her was a complete stranger. Gone was the simple village girl. Here was a new Gia.

Of course, as far as she was concerned back then, it was all downhill from there. She spoke no Turkish or Arabic at that time, but one of the girls who had attended to her in the harem was from Mykonos, another Greek island further south. Gia listened in disbelief as her shocking new duties were outlined. She would live until old age claimed her in the harem, enjoy wonderful food, musicians and the highest quality clothing and perfumes. In return, she would be expected to serve the Sultan Pasha in every way, whenever he deigned to send for her. Not something a virgin village girl looked forward to with any anticipation. But Gia had a steely core under that demure exterior. Having survived this far, she decided to use her assets wisely.

He did not send for her that night, or for the two weeks afterwards. She had no knowledge then of the secret panel used by the Sultan to view his concubines. Or that he had used the very ‘storeroom’ that Cuk had abused so recently to assess her potential as a bedmate… but in the meantime she was pampered and coached in every skill required to please him when he finally called. The younger women were eager to play with this fresh nubile body, and the few eunuchs who could still achieve erections were always available for her instruction on the handling of an aroused male organ. Her early shock and dismay gave way to mute acceptance as the days went on. She was astute enough to realise that the grim fate of her sister and friends awaited her in the barracks below if she failed to suitably please her lord.

But that was over 17 years ago. Years in which she had progressed from a mere concubine to a wife. A favoured wife at that. Selim had been fascinated by her foreign beauty and pale skin. The fact that Gia was a fast learner at everything was a bonus. Soon she was the subject of considerable jealousy and fear from the established wives and concubines. Within a few moons, Selim had settled her in a private area adjacent to the harem, to protect her from jealous bites and scratches. Inside another 7 moons, her early morning sickness and swelling stomach told him that she was fertile as well as sweetly accommodating.

Naomi had been born 6 moons later. Even more beautiful than her mother as it turned out. From a small, pink and noisy bundle, she developed quickly into the favoured beautiful daughter of her mighty father. A pearl...his favourite princess.

But this morning too as Gia walked to the Sultans ante chamber to await his summons, she was not alone. One pace behind her as custom dictated, was the man who had been her real protector and faithful servant for over a decade.

Tomas was a captive like her. Seized in a violent raid in Northern Africa, he was a Nubian. He’d only been a barely pubescent boy then, younger even than Gia had been. Slim, ebony black and with a cheery bright smile that he kept as an adult. But he’d been less fortunate than her at first. Cuk, although wary of despoiling Gia before the Sultan had inspected her, was far less considerate with this good looking Nubian boy.

For over two months, Tomas was used and abused in the basest and crudest ways. Bent over furniture and pounded daily, he was on the brink of throwing himself from the palace walls to the cobbles a hundred feet below when Gia took pity on him. She rescued this youth from the predatory Cuk by some judicious whispering in Selim’s ear after she’d satisfied her husband one night. After good sex, the Sultan was wont to allow his favoured wife any reasonable request. 

But Cuk had been angry and resentful at his masters decision. Gia got her wish... for Tomas to be reassigned to her care. But the palace enforcer took great delight in bringing her new charge to the door of the harem personally. Tomas had limped alongside him, his young face a mask of pain and humiliation. The butcher calling himself the palace surgeon had performed his task exactly as Cuk had instructed. The trail of bright blood spots on the marble which followed Tomas’s progress revealed he was now a eunuch.

It took a whole month of care and the careful application of the very best ungents and balms to reduce his pain to manageable levels. Emasculated, Tomas was now able to live in the harem near his mistress, but at the cost of his manhood.

The rage and desire for revenge which burned in him towards his tormentor never faded over the years. His mistress was similarly angry at the unnecessary harm inflicted on her new favourite. But she knew it was pointless asking her husband for Cuk’s head on a platter. He was simply too useful to the court. And in any case, she bore her own degree of guilt for the savagery inflicted on him. Asking for the boy to be spared daily buggery had resulted after all in this extreme pain and suffering. But Tomas never blamed her for rescuing him in such a reduced fashion. Instead, his love for the Sultans 6th wife and later her gorgeous daughter was unfailing and constant. Gia knew the man would lay down his life for her or Naomi without a seconds thought.

He was no longer a slim, almost pretty boy from an African village. Now he was taller even than Cuk, shaven headed and heavily muscled. With daily intense exercise, he was now as dangerous an opponent as anyone in the Imperial Guard. Allowed only a decorative scimitar as personal weapon, he still made an imposing and intimidating figure. Just a lightweight white robe covered his glistening torso and a matching knotted dhoti covered his remaining modesty. As a guard and manservant, he was perfect.

This day as on others, he used his position one pace behind his mistress to listen intently as she outlined her plans to thwart the Viziers scheming. Tomas had vowed to himself that if the Vizier got his way and Naomi was ordered to be sacrificed to the old goats lust, he would end the man and his ruthless enforcer once and for all. He hadn’t needed to inform his mistress of this secret vow. One look in his eyes told her he considered death an honour if it meant a painful one for both Kamal and Cuk. That scimitar would cut them both to chunks of meat before one hair of Naomi’s head was touched. The fact that his life would then be instantly forfeit mattered not. He would suffer the vat of boiling oil or the ritual death of a thousand cuts stoically if it came to that.

But Gia had no intention of sacrificing her most loyal ally if at all possible. She had cards to play of her own, but there were pieces missing from the puzzle yet. The search for those missing elements was her next task. But right now she had more pressing matters at hand. Saving Naomi from her unwanted suit for one.

Whispering quiet instructions out of the side of her mouth, she continued to walk towards the ante chamber. Tomas gave no sign that he was listening, but Gia knew he would follow those orders to the letter.

Once they had arrived at the ante room and Gia was ushered in, Tomas was free to leave her side. It was likely to be a long wait for the 6th wife. Already there were a dozen other female petitioners sitting on cushions, waiting for a summons from the Sultans personal secretary. In an adjacent chamber, a similar number of male supplicants waited. Gia sighed patiently and took her place on one of the vacant cushions. Favoured wife she may be, but the Sultan was a busy ruler. She knew it would likely be lunchtime before she would have to send for Tomas again.

XXX

Tomas walked quickly away from the palace, nodding at the uniformed guards on the several gates as he passed through. They had learned some time ago not to snigger behind their hands at his passing. Only twice had an unwary recruit made a crude comment about his lack of….masculinity. Tomas had beaten both unfortunates bloodily unconscious in the cobbled courtyard outside the main barracks in front of their jeering friends shortly afterwards. Word quickly got around that a lack of testicles had not hampered his fighting qualities one bit. No one since his eighteenth summer had been rash enough to challenge him. Now, at 23, he was at the peak of his strength. A deferential nod was the only gesture he encountered.

Finally, a few hundred yards from the main gates, he ducked inside a small tailors shop. But he was not in the market for new clothing. A eunuch’s requirements were simple and rarely needed outside assistance. Seven changes of clothing was ample. He had those and more, thanks to his generous royal benefactor. No, today he was on quite another quest.

The shop was lit by several small, flickering lamps and plump cloth bundles were strewn over every horizontal surface. On wooden racks, lines of completed traditional men and women’s clothing hung. Fine silks and imported wools alongside coarser materials for working people. The place was obviously busy, Tomas noted with satisfaction. His mistress had been very definite about which tailors to visit and why.

Once inside, he nodded to an assistant busy cutting cloth at a long table, and was waved through to the back of the shop. Pushing aside the heavy curtain separating the rooms, he inclined his head again at a young apprentice pinning material to a life sized human torso which was on a pole across the dimly lit chamber. The boy smiled back before going back to his task silently.

“As-Salam-u-Alaikum” Tomas intoned in his deep and pleasant voice. Emasculation at an early age sometimes affects the vocal chords, but he had been lucky in that regard. 

“Wa-Alaikumussalam wa-Rahmatullah" The heavily bearded older man sitting at the other desk answered. Thomas was not a Muslim, but the ritual response was automatic. Even out of the palace, Tomas was recognised and respected as a feared figure.

He shook his head at an offer of green tea and waited until the apprentice had left the room. What he had to discuss today was strictly between him and the tailor, even if it involved the son peripherally.

“My mistress has requested that I speak with you Kemal” he said, deliberately using the mans first name. It wasn’t usual for a stranger to be so familiar, but Tomas had learned that familiarity was a useful weapon. It spoke of friendship where none existed and that implied dominance could give him an advantage.

The older man nodded unhappily and sat back heavily in his padded chair, indicating that Tomas should also sit. He did not.

“Thank you, but I have to be back soon. Let me get to the point Kemal….”

The man blinked and his mouth settled in a thin line. This was no social call, that was clear enough. The Africans presence would be noted by his neighbours and he was starting to be concerned about this visitor.

“Please do...?” he said politely enough.

“...my mistress...the Sultana Gia...6th wife of the Sultan Pasha Selim 2nd, Lord of all the kingdoms….”

He paused, letting the elaborate titles sink in. The tailors eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in shock. The Sultana herself had sent this man? He straightened in his chair and leaned forward.

“Any service I can render the blessed Sultana...would be an honour, lord” he said eagerly. Tomas waved away his naked attempt at flattery.

“I’m no lord Kemal, as I’m sure you’re well aware. Merely an instrument happy to serve my mistress. As I am in no doubt, you will be too?”

The tailors head bobbed hard as he tried to be even more ingratiating than before.

“Yes...of course...anything lor...I mean sir?”

Tomas was tempted for a second to tease the man...maybe ask for his daughter to break off her engagement and follow him to the harem. But this was no laughing matter. His lady Gia had entrusted him with this task. To business.

“Just a small, even insignificant matter Kemal...” he smiled broadly, which only served to increase the tailors anxiety.

“...my mistress as you know, has a beautiful and noble daughter...the Princess Naomi. The princess is almost of age and is in need of some of her own... hand maids? The staff at the palace are satisfactory of course...but my lady thinks that a person or persons from without the existing staff would be preferable. Of course, the girls should be clean, virgins and with some degree of education, however rudimentary. Their duties would include dressing and bathing the Princess and arranging her wardrobe, along with some controlled...companionship? Have you any ideas about who might be a suitable match for that requirement?”

The tailors first instinct was to recommend his own soon to be daughter in law, but she wasn’t qualified in any other way. His only daughter was too young at 13 summers. No...he thought...I have no idea who...”

Then the answer came to him, as Tomas knew it would. His mistress had been careful and diligent in her research before even sending him out of the palace. But the suggestion had to be the tailors, otherwise the scheme would be too obvious. 

“Ahhh” the man exclaimed, smiling and throwing up his hands at his own cleverness “...there is a friend of mine...a good friend...an honest man. His daughters are cousins of my son’s new bride? He is a wood carver, trustworthy and quick witted...”

Tomas waited patiently for the man to stop praising the father. It was the daughters he was interested in.

“..he has two young daughters...twins in fact. Beautiful girls...sixteen summers I believe. Virgins both and unpromised so far. They have basic education and are good natured, I understand. They would be ideal my lor...sir.?”

Tomas’s smile was more genuine this time. He decided not to press further. The mans son’s wedding was imminent, he had checked that before leaving the palace. The rooms on the lower floor had been reserved. Ideal. Now he just had to leave the matter to the tailor to sell to his friend. There was always the possibility of course that the girls mother might object, but that could be dealt with if it happened. Most mothers in any case would be delighted to have their daughters elevated to palace staff. He stood and held out his hand in farewell.

“I knew I could rely on you Kemal. My sources told me you were a resourceful man. I will tell my mistress that you will arrange for these...twins you say?...to attend the palace in two days time. I will give instructions that they and their parents should be allowed in the south gate at say...mid afternoon?”

The man nodded again, clasping Tomas’s powerful hand in both of his. 

“I will, I will sir...thank you a thousand times for doing me the honour of serving you and your mistress?”

Tomas reached into his waist pouch and took out a single, glittering silver akce. The mans eyes widened even further. This coin was the equivalent of five days earnings at least.

“As an advance payment Kemal...make up some suitable clothing for the girls to attend in...they should be modest but not too formal?”

“Of course, of course sir...it would be a pleasure...I have fine silks, satins...even rare cloth from Egypt. I will ensure the girls are suitably dressed for their audience...”

Tomas left as the man babbled on about the wonderful clothing he was about to make. No matter, the man was almost pathetically eager to help. As the tall black man strode out of the shop and back up the hill, he smiled to himself in satisfaction. Whatever his mistress’s complex plans were, he had done his part to set things in play. 

XXX

“No Kati...I will not lend you my new hairband. You lost the last one you borrowed and mama beat me for losing it. And you lied about who had it last too?”

Katerina pouted, but her sister was unmoved. Her face had stung for an hour after her mothers last chastisement. She had no wish to incur another punishment. Her sister was notoriously careless with borrowed things and Yasmina's wedding was tomorrow. The small lapis lazuli hairband was a birthday gift and its absence sure to be noticed by her eagle eyed mama. It was bad enough she had only a second hand dress to wear. Katerina had managed by sly flattery and beseeching with her brown eyes, to acquire the only new piece of material her mother had left. Emilia had to make do with an old dress, newly trimmed with a spare length of lace. Just when she wanted to look her best too. It still irked her that Yasmina was now out of bounds for any more...lessons. Frustrating too. Even though it had been barely a sunset since she’d enjoyed that lush and responsive body, she still ached for the contact. So she was in no mood to indulge her slightly older sister. Being first out of the womb was an advantage her twin had never relinquished.

As she opened her mouth to refuse again, the squabbling twins were interrupted by their mother. She burst through the curtain separating their sleeping quarters from the living area, face flushed and eyed wide. At first, both girls jumped backwards. Normally, this level of excitement from their parents was a precursor to flailing hands and heavy blows. What domestic misdemeanour had she discovered now? 

But it was far more momentous than a burned sheet or creased dress.

“Girls...girls...” Nergis said in a voice high with excitement. “Great news...you have both been asked to serve in the palace...for the Princess, no less?”

Katerina stared back blankly...what the…

Emilia too looked shocked. Serve the actual princess...did she mean?

XXX


	4. Chapter 4

When Gia left the Royal ante room after lunch, Tomas was waiting impassively outside, arms folded and with eyes looking straight ahead at nothing in particular. It was as if he’d not moved a muscle since she’d entered the chamber hours before, but as she passed him, the merest flicker of those expressive brown eyes told her the mission she’d sent him on was completed. No need for a debrief or whispered conversation of any kind on the way back to her quarters. The risk she had taken, by firstly involving the loyal eunuch in her scheme and then making this direct approach to her husband was high, but necessary. The audience she’d just had with Selim made that crystal clear.

She knew the Grand Vizier would have already made his pitch to be her daughters husband. After all, it was not for him to wait in line until the Sultan had time in his schedule...he had all day to drip poison into her husbands ear. But she had only one opportunity to argue her case. On her side were several material facts. Princess Naomi was the most favoured of his daughters for one and he was likely to take much more care over her choice of husband. Then there was the Vizier’s murky track record with previous brides. Several of his wives, after an initial honeymoon period, had either mysteriously disappeared, or been found at the base of the city walls, having voluntarily or not, taken a one way trip to the unforgiving cobbles below. It was not a happy way to end a contract and the Sultan was very well aware of the fickleness of his most senior advisor. Something which would have given him pause for thought at least.

The audience followed a familiar pattern. After being searched for weapons by a female guard...even the wives of the ruler were not above suspicion...assassins were everywhere in the empire, Gia had been led to his private chamber. Normal petitioners were seen in the main throne room, where they would be suitably cowed by the magnificent furnishings and decorations. His position on the gilded throne gave him a superior view down to the kneeling supplicant. But Gia had been a loyal and loving wife to Selim for years. He dismissed even his closest body servants and relaxed on a silk and satin chaise longue chewing grapes from a bunch in the gold bowl by his elbow, the furniture and fruit imported from France, while Gia settled cross legged on the floor beside him. She knelt first and observed the ritual formalities.

“Lord” she intoned, bowing her head and kissing his outstretched be-ringed fingers one by one. “...Lord… I have a petition I must beg on behalf of your beloved daughter, the Princess Naomi”

The Sultan was well aware of the nature of this petition. His Vizier had predicted it accurately immediately after putting his own case for the marriage to be announced.

“Go on Gia, wife and mother to my beautiful fair angel...” Selim said softly, toying with a strand of the golden hair he had admired since his 6th wife had been a mere girl herself, fresh off the slave boats all those years before. He was inordinately fond of her and even more fond of their offspring. The Vizier had been very convincing in his entreaties, but Selim had firmly deferred judgement until this request was heard.

“Naomi is of marriageable age...I understand that my lord and in good time, a suitable and noble husband will be required for her. But she is still very young for her years, my love, completely untutored in the ways of men and in being a good wife...” Gia said equally softly.

Selim interrupted.

“Mainly due to your efforts I hear, wife. I understand that you have resisted her education in the ways of the marriage bed...it is well overdue mistress. Why have you delayed so long?”

It was a mild rebuke, but accurate. Gia bowed even lower and kissed the back of his hand again.

“Master...husband...I accept your wise criticism of my own failings. I have been unusually gentle with our daughter I agree. But as I said, she is young for her sixteen summers, happy and carefree. I have been anxious to ensure she is tutored in the right ways. There is jealousy and fear amongst the women in the harem as my lord will know. They can be sly and manipulative. I waited until I could find the means to bring Naomi into the world of grown love with compassion and care. The Vizier...who I understand is anxious to make an early match with our princess...can be quite...demanding... of his wives, I hear?” She tried very hard to keep the enmity she held inside for the minister from her voice. Not totally successfully.

Gia stopped then, head still bowed. The risk factor had just multiplied a hundred fold. Favoured wife she may be, but criticism of the most senior figure in the government bar one was dangerously close to subordination. If Selim took offence at her flimsily coded rebuke, the meeting would end then and there. She would be escorted briskly back to her quarters and Naomi would be left exposed and vulnerable.

There was a long silence, during which Gia held her breath. Had she gone too far?

Then a deep chuckle from above, allowed her to release that held breath. Selim lifted her chin and smiled down at her.

“Bravo, my jewel for that thinly disguised...’advice’...about my exalted first minister. He is as you say a little...demanding... of his wives and concubines. Too demanding, an impartial observer might remark. But that aside...he is unusually anxious to make this match. Naomi would be appointed first amongst his wives...enriched generously in her own right and with a position in court far beyond her current situation as a single girl in the harem. Would you not want the very best for our daughter, wife?”

Gia kept her eyes on Selim’s as she carefully considered her answer. She knew exactly what her husband was saying. It was a trap...a gentle trap... but a trap nevertheless. On one hand she did want the very best for Naomi. The Vizier would be an obvious match for any ambitious woman. But he was odious in every other way. Duplicitous, corrupted and depraved. She shuddered inside at the very idea of his gnarled and palsied hands nightly corrupting her unspoiled daughter. Once her daughter was his property, Gia would be powerless to help her.

“Lord” she said in a measured voice, “you are right of course, as always...the Vizier would be an ideal match for any woman...but...” she swallowed, “...Naomi would need to be educated far beyond her current abilities in order to fulfil her wifely duties with such an...experienced... husband, may I make a small suggestion?”

Selim nodded his large head slowly and looked down at her without speaking. His eyes gave nothing away. Gambling was forbidden in the kingdom, but if it had been allowed, he would have been an implacable and unreadable opponent across a gaming table.

“I have taken the liberty of employing two new hand maids to serve the princess. Girls from outside the palace staff...pure and virginal in body...but more worldly in mind, educated in...well...certain matters? A breath of fresh air, I believe. I will instruct them to bring our daughter, over the next few moons, to a state where she will be able to carry out her duties to any husband my lord graces with her hand. I was very fortunate, my lord… I was well tutored, was I not? Without being too bold, I like to think my pasha was satisfied with my skills when I was granted the great honour of sharing your bed?”

Again she held her breath. This was again a risk. It had been many moons since the Sultan had sent for her in the night. Dozens of nubile and skilful women had plied their trade in the rulers bed since. But she knew he still favoured her… was it enough?

Selim looked away from her, his eyes clouding slightly, as if remembering something from long ago. Finally he looked back, face expressionless. She was reminded, as if that was needed, that this man was ruler of millions of subjects, lord of all the lands as far as the eye could see. Not a man to be fooled or cajoled by a simple woman.

“I see no good reason to refuse the Vizier his persistent suit, wife...” he said firmly, making Gia’s heart dive in her chest. “...but patience is a singular virtue...not something Kamal is very good at. Despite his many other talents...it will be good for him to practice some... forbearance. I will not announce a betrothal yet. But in six moons, I will summon him and the girl to me for that express purpose. The wedding will then proceed. You have that time and no longer to prepare our daughter for her new duties...is that clear, mistress?”

Gia forced a bright smile onto her face. In truth, 6 moons was plenty long enough if everything else came together. The spies she had used to source the solution to her problem had come highly recommended. If Tomas had done his part and the twin girls were on their way to the palace, phase one could commence. The information she had about the girls had to be completely relied on. Both beautiful enough to be decorative to the harem...and one of them already schooled in the subtle arts of Sappho. Yasmina, the soon to be married daughter of a local merchant, had been effusive to her messengers about this Emilia's easy conversion to womanly pleasure. Exactly the pretty tool she needed to tempt her daughter. Naomi believed her haughty and indifferent attitude fooled everyone, but she was after all the daughter of a 9th generation girl from Lesbos...and Gia knew the power of the suppressed fires which smouldered under her outwardly icy exterior. She may have had to dampen her own fire, after being captured and pressed into an arranged marriage all those years ago, but Gia had a very different life in mind for her precious pearl.

All she needed to do was introduce a beautiful and willing variable to the equation. Nature would do the rest, 

Inshallah. (God willing)

She left the Sultans private chamber with an impassive face, but inside, her heart was thumping wildly. Things just might be more hopeful than she’d feared…

XXX

“What?...I don’t want to work in the palace harem, mother...all those pampered and over dressed women looking down on you every day. I want to work with father...be his apprentice...look after you both when you are old and infirm?”

Katerina’s brown eyes blazed as she stood in their rudimentary kitchen, arms folded and face set in determination. Her mothers eyes flashed back, but then softened. So much like herself when she was young she thought wistfully. All that fire and rage. She glanced across at Emilia, who was standing by her twin, eyes down, hands clasped in front of her. So similar, her girls, but so utterly different. Katerina was all extrovert noise and bluster, quick to anger and equally speedy to laughter. Emilia was always quieter, even as an infant. Obedient and gentle, she was the one her mother worried about the most. Soon, if this golden opportunity was not seized, her husbands friends would be calling at the house one by one, with small gifts and requests for her daughters favour on one unmarried son or the other. Katerina again would be easier to place. She could decide in her own way which young man was malleable and handsome enough. Once decided, she knew her eldest would make a good, if tempestuous wife. Hard to handle maybe, but a real firecracker in the bedchamber, which always tames a man in the end.

Emilia however, was something of an enigma, although her mother wasn’t totally unworldly towards what her daughters secret desires might be. Nergis had grown up in a village several dozen miles from Constantinople. In that village there had been two female unmarried couples, nominally ‘sisters’ but in truth secret lovers. It was never spoken of publicly, any more than the brief and passionate liaisons between adolescent youths before they settled to marriage. Boys and girls alike needed an outlet for their burgeoning desires. When in that difficult period between puberty and a stable union, boys gratifying themselves with other boys and girls doing the same with their best friends was preferable to an unwanted pregnancy and instant disgrace. But boys grew out of their passions quickly when a pretty wife was offered. Women occasionally stayed together longer. As long as they were discrete, what went on in their bedrooms at night was casually ignored.

And Nergis knew...because she had been a young girl too once, that Emilia had already tasted forbidden fruit. Girls her age always think that parents are blind...and more importantly deaf. Her husband may have slept through those warm nights recently when Yasmina stayed in Emilia’s bed, but Nergis had not. Even if she hadn’t overheard the muffled gasps and exclamations of breathy gratitude coming from her daughters room, she had definitely not misinterpreted the sly glances and secret smiles the two girls had shared over the dinner table. Yasmina had tutored and enraptured Emilia thoroughly it seemed.

She had not intervened then and she would not do so if it occurred again. But this opportunity might be the solution to a problem not yet large enough to worry about. Emilia showed no interest in even conversing with boys her own age. Unlike her sister, who had to be reminded almost daily about decent boundaries and the dangers of leading adolescent males on, Emilia shunned contact with the local boys.

So...this opportunity was far to good to pass up. Even if it was unpalatable to Katerina at the moment. Emilia would be somewhere safe...where she could indulge her hidden desires without consequence. Katerina could learn to be a good servant and then, when inevitably the princess grew tired of her new toys, could be offered to a much better class of prospective husband, given her elevated palace status. 

“You will do what you are told Katerina...I have already spoken to your father. The 6th wife of the Sultan himself has requested you and Emilia to attend to the princess Naomi’s personal requirements. It is a great honour...and not one to turn your nose up at, young lady. Do you not see that this will bring us into another world? You and Emilia will be dressed and pampered just like those women you scorn so casually. A few moons...maybe a year at worst and the Princess will be married off to one noble lord or another. Then, with your income from being good, loyal servants and the contacts we will all gain from you working in such an exalted level ...you can return here and take your pick of the young men with the highest prospects. Your father will have to beat them off with a stick by then?”

She paused and waited for that to sink in.

Katerina’s expression went from anger through defiance to eventual grudging acceptance. Then she smirked and her mother knew her eldest daughter was already making shrewd calculations.

“Will there be...many new clothes mother?” she wheedled artfully, twirling a lock of dark hair in her fingertips.

Her mother smiled thinly. Katerina...always so predictable.

“Undoubtedly...and other fine things...silks and cloths, jewellery from all around the world. An outfit for every day and more to spare...all you will have to do is to bathe the princess each morning and dress her two or three times a day. Perhaps attend her if she is summoned to court. Think of all the interesting people you will meet Katerina?”

“...and I hear there are...eunuchs? Men who have…?” the girl sniggered.

“Enough” Nergis said sharply, although she found it hard to keep a smile from her face. At least a eunuch would be unable to get Katerina into any real trouble. She turned to Emilia, who was watching the exchange with a shy smile.

“...and you, my little mouse...what do you think of the idea?”

Emilia blinked a few times, then shrugged.

“It could be interesting mother. I might enjoy having someone to fuss over?”

“So” Nergis said briskly “...thats settled. Your father has told me that his friend the tailor has been ordered to make you new dresses for your appearance at court. Expensive dresses...that’s wonderful, isn’t it my darlings?” 

This time both daughters smiled back warmly. Katerina immediately began to think out loud about all the finery she could be getting. Emilia waited until her chattering sister had left to tell her friends all about the new adventure she was about to embark on, then sidled up to her mother and spoke quietly.

“The princess mother?...They say she is the most beautiful girl in all of Constantinople...is that true?”

Nergis slid an arm over her youngest daughters shoulders and whispered into her small ear.

“I have only seen a small painted portrait Emi...but if it is accurate, then yes she is. Yellow hair, beautiful blue eyes and a pale, clear complexion. They say her mother was Greek...from one of the islands far out to sea...where the people tend to the fair?”

Emilia smiled up at her mother.

“Well, that would be... nice. Maybe we could even be friends as well as mistress and servant...that would be...”

“Nice...” her mother finished for her. “Yes...maybe you will. But right now you need to pack some of your things. Tomorrow the dresses will arrive from Yasmina’s father in law...it was he who recommended you two girls to the Sultana’s staff. We have been very lucky my little mouse...”

XXX

Later that night, as Emilia and Katerina lay under a single sheet on the straw pallet they had shared since they were six years old, the older twin pushed herself up on one elbow and looked down the bed at her sister, who was lying top to tail with her.

“Emi...” she whispered urgently. Emilia mirrored her sisters position, using her elbow to sit up higher.

“Yes?” she murmured drowsily. She had been about to drift off to sleep before Katerina spoke.

“What is it...you know...how do...I mean, oh its so hard to say it...Right...what do girls do...you know in bed...when they want each other badly?”

From being sleepy, Kati’s words stung Emi into watchful tension. She could feel her heart beginning to beat faster.

“How should I know?” she hissed defensively “why are you even asking me that Kati?”

Katerina smirked at her red faced sister and sat up properly, making the bed bounce slightly.

“You mean you’ve never…?” she said. Emilia could feel the flush on her face deepen. She hated her sister for being able to embarrass her so easily.

“No...I’ve never...why would you even think that?” she muttered quietly. 

Katerina sighed and lay back down, looking up at the rush matting over their heads. She knew she had Emi on the run, so she let the tension build a little more before speaking again.

“Oh...I don’t know...just a lucky guess...so it wasn’t you I heard night after night while Yasmina was sleeping in this bed...’Oh Yasmina my sweet...there...right there...please?’” she mimicked her sisters huskier voice alarmingly accurately.

Emilia’s mouth was wide open in shock. Shame and fear paralysed her.

Katerina giggled softly, then sat up again.

“Such a baby, Emi...so easy to tease” she said, plumping the pillow under her head and looking down the bed at her mortified twin “...its really none of my business what you and her got up to anyway, little sister...but if the princess is half as pretty as they say she is Emi...its going to be very hard for you to keep your curious little hands off her in the bath..isn’t it?” She sniggered long and hard at her own joke.

The thump of Emi’s pillow hitting her in the face only made her laugh harder. 

XXX

Naomi

It was two days after Tomas’s visit to the tailors shop and the princess was pacing back and forth across the marble floor of her new quarters. For some reason, the palace had decided to relocate her and her mother to a previously unused set of rooms the other side of the harem section of the building. Bigger than the ones she was used to and even more luxurious, but Naomi was a creature of habit. She disliked change, specially change that she had no say in. In truth, there was no reason to dislike this new living space. Instead of sharing a bedroom with her mother as she had done since birth, she now had an airy and bright room of her own with two large windows and a white plaster balustraded balcony overlooking the cultivated fields hundreds of feet below the palace. Far enough away that it would take a hawk to see up into the residence, but the view from there was breathtaking. She should have been delighted, but the change spoke of new developments and for that she was wary.

Despite her mothers insistence that it was just a welcome change of scenery, Naomi knew this move signalled something significant. She was fully aware that now she was sixteen summers old, things would be different. Although isolated by her birth and status, she was perfectly well versed in the ways of the court. Girls of her age were being routinely married off. Every week it seemed, her companions, such as they were, were being replaced by younger courtiers. The feeling in her stomach when she saw her mother and Tomas, the favoured eunuch, whispering in corners was unsettling. The subject matter was obviously her. Their worried glances and false smiles were unnerving. Now this…

“Mother...when are you going to tell me what is going on?” she said sharply, stopping her pacing for a moment. “What is the meaning of this sudden change?”

Gia smiled indulgently and shrugged.

“Do you not like your new quarters, daughter? A nicer bedroom by far, with views of the countryside, your own sitting room with all your books and pretty things laid out for you...oh, and that lovely bathroom with its private changing area...so much better than bathing behind a curtain in the harem?”

None of which Naomi could argue with. But why now?

“Yes, yes” she said impatiently “...its all wonderful I’m sure...but why is it I feel like a goose that is being fed corn by the bucket just before the butcher sharpens his axe?”

Gia frowned. She knew this conversation was overdue. It looked like her astute daughter had seen through her attempt to soften the blow. Time for honesty.

“Sit down Naomi...we need to discuss something” she said quietly. Naomi froze in her pacing and stared at her mother.

“I knew this was bad news...what is it?” she grated.

“Sit daughter...there is some bad news, but some good too. Know this Naomi, my precious pearl. I will defend you to my dying breath...but first you need to know all the truth, not just part of it?”

Naomi slumped onto the long, silk covered couch, her heart thumping and a sick feeling in her stomach.

“The bad news...and it would be very bad news if I had any intention of letting it happen, is that my husband, your father... has told me that you are shortly to be betrothed”

Naomi gasped in shock, even though she had expected something like it. She looked around the opulent room, suddenly not so upset by the change of surroundings. She had spent every moment of her young life within these walls...now it seemed she was to be shipped off to a foreign land, bride to some unknown prince...a pawn in one of her fathers complex political games. 

“Who?” she said sullenly, expecting her mother to name a prince or a lord from one of the closest neighbour countries. Marriage to anyone had been a distant prospect before. Something to push to the back of your mind, something for later...always later.

Gia swallowed hard. This was the moment she dreaded. She steeled herself for the tears and shouting.

“The Sultan has decided to accept...the Grand Viziers request for your hand, daughter”

Naomi’s face went from red anger to pale shock instantly. Her ears refused to believe the words her mother had just spoken. The room spun around her as his name echoed in her head. Kamal? The corpulent womaniser, corrupt politician and abuser of women...she couldn’t...they couldn’t?

Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. The sickness in her stomach rolled and heaved as she pictured his pock marked and sweaty face over her...his heavy body on top of her...his, his thing...inside her….

“Sick...going to be sick” she choked as acrid vomit surged in her throat. She lurched up and staggered across the room to a small basin on a cabinet. This mornings bread, fruit and milk ejected violently from her open mouth, splashing her new dress and onto her bare feet. Again and again she heaved, even when there was nothing left to lose from her aching stomach. Trembling, she allowed her mother to hand her a glass of cool water, then mop her face and chest with a damp cloth. Dumbly, she was led back to the couch. Gia at beside her and slid a comforting arm over her shoulders, hugging her shivering daughter fiercely.

“Listen Naomi...that is very bad news, I know that. But that is only the Sultans plan. Many things can and will happen before that. I promise you on my life that Tomas and I will never let it happen. The Sultan has deferred the announcement for six whole moons. That is why I went to see him yesterday. We have that six moons to prevent the marriage taking place. My precious daughter will never fall into the hands of that odious toad and his murderous enforcer. I have vowed that and I will keep my promise on pain of death”

Gia paused to allow what she had said to sink in. Naomi looked up at her with red rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks pathetically.

“B...but mother...what can we do? The Vizier is so powerful...he has spies everywhere and what about his man Cuk?” she shivered again at the very mention of the official assassins name “...Cuk will do the Viziers bidding whatever we try to do?”

Gia held her daughters head in her hands and whispered fiercely. 

“I said I have plans my love and I do...but I cannot discuss them with you just yet. But know this...Tomas and I have pledged to defend you with our very lives. You will not marry that corrupted oaf and Cuk will play no part in helping his evil plans. We have prepared for this possibility for many years. You will have to trust your mother. Trust my word...I have never lied to you before have I, Naomi?”

Naomi shook her head. That much was true. Her stomach ached and her head throbbed, but she clung on to the sincerity in her mothers eyes. She had to trust...there was no alternative.

A few hours later, she was feeling a little better. Gia had said no more about the planned nuptials, just that there were complicated arrangements in hand to thwart the Viziers desires. She had to be patient. At sixteen, six moons seemed like a lifetime anyway, so reluctantly, she allowed herself to relax a little. Her mother was right, she had never lied to her in the past.

In any case she decided, it would be better to enjoy the comforts of this new living area while she could. Her books, in Turkish, Greek and Latin, were lined in serried rows across several book shelves. Her comfort was as always the escape they provided. Not all were text books or scholarly in content. Gradually, as she got older, her mother had allowed a different type of reading material to be kept in her daughters bedroom. Novels...stories about far off lands and strange peoples nothing like the ones she had been close too these sixteen years. Even some in French, which she struggled with at first, but her endless capacity for knowledge soon overcame that obstacle. Tomas had sourced a tutor who had that language and within four moons, she had mastered the basics. Poetry by Remy Belleau and Jean Antoine de Baife, whilst sometimes a little risqué was balanced by serious tomes by Diego de San Pedro and Jean Lemaire de Belges. She devoured them all ravenously.

But today, she craved lighter material. Her head was still spinning with the events of this morning and in the afternoon she was to be introduced to her new hand maids. Twins, her mother had said...and not from the seemingly endless stream of palace courtiers own children or the better end of the slave market. No, these girls were apparently born free, if poor. But from a good honest family. It had been decided that Naomi’s world required expanding outside her second hand enjoyment through books. She sighed as she scanned some occasionally amusing Greek poetry. It seemed her mind was unable to escape the horror of this morning. Every stanza was overwhelmed with dark thoughts about her possible fate. In the end, Naomi threw the richly bound book to one side, letting it bounce off a silk cushion on its way to the floor. Normally she would have grabbed at it to prevent damage to the binding or spine, but today she was affected by some sort of ennui, unable to care enough to reach out. The book clattered onto the hard floor with a reproachful sound, as if chiding her for the rough treatment. She sighed again...maybe a light lunch would improve her mood? Having deposited her breakfast into the bowl (now cleared away y a watchful slave), her stomach growled in hunger. She reached for the crimson silken rope next to the couch...a servant was always on hand with a selection of cold meats and salads.

As her hand touched the cord, she heard a soft cough from behind her. Good, she thought...a maid in calling distance. She spoke without turning.

“Girl...some cold meats and fresh garden salads, bread...oh, and a carafe of fruit juice?”

Naomi was used to giving commands and today was no different. Usually there was a polite and deferential ‘Yes my lady’ or ‘straight away highness’

But on this occasion nothing. Just another gentle cough, as if the girl wanted her attention. Naomi frowned and turned quickly in her seat. Probably just another new servant, needing precise instructions, although she thought she’d been absolutely clear already.

As she turned, the figure behind her came into view. Naomi’s eyes travelled upwards from the floor, noting the new red silk slippers, a white wrapped silk skirt and a bare midriff. She willed her eyes to move quickly then upwards so that they did not noticeably linger on the noticeable swell of the girls pert breasts, covered by a ruched band of the same red material as her silk shoes. Pale shoulders and a simple lapis lazuli and silver necklace completed the picture. 

Then her eyes met brown ones. Worried eyes. Set in a face which actually made her gasp aloud. 

“She’s so beautiful’ was the thought that hammered away in her head as she stared in shock. Frantically her rational mind tried to override the paralysis her weaker emotions were forcing on her. Why on earth was she thinking that? Surely this was just another new slave girl? So why was she staring at the slim dark haired girl like a rabbit at a cobra? (a very very pretty cobra princess, her mind teased her).

Naomi blinked, then closed her eyes completely. Get a grip of yourself Naomi, she scolded herself silently. The girl will think you’re half witted. When she opened them again, she found the girl was now right in front of her, a slightly concerned look on her face.

“Miss...oh, so sorry I mean your highness...are you feeling unwell...would you like me to fetch a physician...I...I...”

The girl was clenching and unclenching her fists by her sides, seeming to want to reach out to her, but terrified to do so.

Finally, the paralysis seemed to lose its grip on Naomi. She shook herself physically and stood up in one smooth move. It was then she noticed how tiny the girl was. They were obviously of a similar age...but there were several inches difference in height. For the first time in a long while, Naomi felt quite tall.

“What is your name girl?” she asked briskly, trying to regain her famous composure. How ridiculous, she said to herself, the girl just caught me by surprise, thats all.

“Uh...I’m Emilia mi...I mean highness...your mother...the Sultana, sent me in to introduce myself? I am to be your new body servant...along with my twin sister, who is waiting outside...may I bring Katerina in now?”

Naomi took several seconds to process what the girl had just said. Emilia? Yes, that was one of the names her mother had told her about this morning...the other was Katerina..she was sure of that. Then it hit her...twins? By the heavens...there were TWO of them? Surely the Patriarch himself could not create two such beautiful and perfect...her mind froze again. Why in all that is holy was she thinking like this? It was true she had never considered herself attracted to the male form in any way. Given her isolation, she thought that was probably understandable...and it was also true that the sly caresses and stroking of the maid Fatima during her daily baths had occasionally aroused her...somewhat against her will...but this?

This was outside every comfort zone she possessed. The girl carried on looking at her, occasionally casting her eyes to the floor, revealing long and dark eyelashes. Naomi felt her heart thump hard as she realised she was staring yet again.

“Uh...right...yes...my mother, the Sultana informed me that you and your sister are to work for me. Well...Emilia...(she ran the name round her mouth like a delicious flavour), anxious as I am to meet your sister, I am too hungry at present. If you are ready to begin your duties, go into the hallway...there will be several servants around. Tell one of them that the Princess requires a cold meat and salad dish...oh, and some of that fresh bread from the bakery. You may also ask for food to be brought to you both in the room next door. Those will be your own day quarters?”

The girl nodded, still with those liquid eyes on Naomi. She knew that if she didn’t put a door between herself and the new girl, she was likely to say something distinctly un royal. This morning seemed to be producing constant surprises. She craved privacy for a few moments, just to collect her thoughts. It was the shock of this mornings unwelcome news about the Vizier, that was it. Just caught her unawares. Nothing more than that.

The girl left as silently as she had arrived, bowing briefly before backing out. Unfortunately, this afforded an interrupted view of two perfect (there you go again Naomi, she said to herself) small breasts as the loose top sagged. Naomi turned her head quickly to the side as Emilia straightened by the door. Heavens...now she was blushing too...the girl will think me a fool she chided.

When the door closed with a heavy thud, Naomi collapsed onto the couch again, Her mind was spinning. No human being she had been in contact with in her life had produced this reaction. What was happening to her?

Emilia stopped the other side of the door and leaned back on it, her chest rising and falling as she at last started to relax. Katerina stood there with her hands on her hips, dressed in a similar way, except the material was green and white.

“Well?” she said impatiently “...what’s she like...can I go in now or...”

Emilia knew her sister was impatient, but she really wasn’t ready to answer that quite yet. Instead, spotting a passing boy, she relayed her mistresses instructions regarding food, ordering the same for her and Katerina. Whatever the Princess was eating was definitely going to be better than they were used to having for lunch.

Katerina huffed in impatience as she spoke, tapping her silk covered foot on the floor and raising her eyebrows at her sisters delay.

“Well?” she said again as the boy scurried off to the kitchens. They had been led here by a huge black man with a scimitar at his hip. Neither of them had been keen on asking him any questions, but now Katerina was bursting with impatience.

Emilia looked at her sister and smiled serenely, her heart still pounding.

“She’s...she’s...” she said slowly.

“She’s what Emi...what on earth is wrong with you?”

Emilia smiled again, a dreamy smile.

“She’s...perfect Kati...beautiful isn’t the word at all...she’s just...perfect?”

Katerina rolled her eyes impressively. 

“Oh heaven save us Emi...by the looks of you, we’re in big trouble, aren’t we?”

Emilia didn’t answer, but the long sigh she let out was enough for all Katerina’s fears to be realised. Her sister looked like she had been hit by a thunderbolt.

XXX


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit of nastiness here and a major characher death...it won't be the last...sorry!

Hi again. This one is a bit, err...graphic in its description of violence. Not towards our girls, although there is definitely a threat trigger in here. But as someone said recently, different times, different attitudes. Life was cheap in the 1570’s just about all over the world. Just a bit cheaper in certain parts. So, just so you know. The chapter starts a bit..dark...and gets worse! Hahaha.

Mistakes mine, Skins not...yadda yadda.

Tomas had perfected the art of barely breathing when he wanted to be quiet. And he was being very, very quiet right now. Pressed up against the wall of the harem...just waiting.

His mistress was in her chambers, busily arranging the other parts of this grand scheme to save Naomi from the clutches of the Grand Vizier. That was a mighty task and he did not envy her the planning or execution of this seemingly impossible job. But he had an important part to play tonight and he was more than ready to carry it out. 

Although there was usually a lot of activity in the main harem, tonight was an exception. A performance had been arranged for the women to watch on the other side of the compound. With their full veils up over their faces and more than usual cloth on their bodies, the wives and concubines were considered to be adequately preserving their modesty. The singers, musicians and jugglers were instructed not to look any of the women in the eye on pain of death. It was a difficult instruction to carry off, but the threat of boiling oil or decapitation worked wonders for their self control. It might look a bit odd, each man and women playing instruments or juggling with their heads firmly bent upwards, staring at the ornate ceiling as they played, but they all agreed it was better than the grim alternative.

But a rumour had been carefully circulated that the Princess Naomi was not going to be present at the show. Her mother had used a couple of close confidantes to spread the lie. 

Because Tomas was now in possession of information about exactly who had a habit of using the long abandoned viewing room next to the harem. Protected by a sturdy gate and a locked door, no one thought it was even in use any more. The Sultan, in his more advanced years, no longer felt the need to personally vet his concubines. It was enough for his aides to present a new girl once a month to him. If he was in the mood, he would take the girl on his bed that night...he never asked for them again. The days of his youth were past and the royal libido was not what it was.

So, certain people were made aware, by whispered asides, that the only person in the harem bath chamber would be the princess and her two handmaids. It turned out to be a temptation too far for one individual.

Cuk strode purposefully down the very corridor he had walked weeks before. Alongside him trotted the same smiling boy too. Cuk wasn’t about to risk using a different slave for this, his most intimate immediate need. The boy had been more than accommodating recently. ‘Practice’ with the older slave Yusuf, had obviously honed his skills. Several times over the last two weeks, Cuk had made use of the boys eagerness to please. The youth did not need the salve so much now either. Practice makes perfect after all….the slave was now willing and eager to assist his masters release. Yusuf had been a gentle and patient tutor. He learned that pleasure was not all one sided if one allowed the body to rule the mind.

So when his master cuffed him mildly on the head and shook a thick key at him, the boy grinned and nodded. Maybe there would be another silver coin to be earned. Now Yusuf had tutored him thoroughly, the task was not unpleasant at all. So long as he pleased Cuk, life in the slaves quarters was not for him. Instead, he slept on the floor at the foot of the enforcers bed, ready and vigilant for any midnight requests.

Tonight though, he walked quietly behind the long striding man. It was unusually late for this type of assignment, but the boy was cheerful nevertheless. A few minutes undemanding work while his master viewed whatever he was viewing through the mesh panel and he could maybe look forward to earning enough to add to that new pair of leather shoes he had bought in the market. Slaves rarely got to own or wear shoes of any kind...he would be envied greatly by his peers if he could show off a new waistcoat too.

The steel gate opened and closed as slickly as before and although the wooden door still squeaked a little when pushed open, Cuk ignored it. Until the small, meshed panel at head height was opened, he was confident that no sound would penetrate the walls. If his information was correct, Princess Naomi would be enjoying a long bath tonight. Her handmaids...or one in particular if the gossiping servants were to be believed... was now a particular favourite of the royal daughter. Cuk could feel himself stiffening already. He had no issues with Naomi getting some enjoyment from one of the female servants...it was normal for the women of the harem to indulge in such practices until they were married. It just added extra spice to the evening. Maybe the boy would have to do him double duty tonight...it had been three days and nights since Cuk had used those youthful lips or tight popo.. energy levels were high this evening. He grinned to himself at the prospect. A free show from the object of his desire, with a willing receptacle for his lust. 

Slowly, and with infinite care, Cuk slid the greased panel to one side. The dull light from a single torch lit the bath chamber beyond. Good, he thought again...the princess has not yet arrived. Maybe he would get the chance to see one or both the reputedly beautiful twins prepare the bath before she stepped into it. An added bonus indeed.

From inside the harem, Tomas heard the almost imperceptible movement of the panel being slid aside and smiled humourlessly to himself. The trap had been set and the rat was now sniffing hungrily at the non existent bait. He inched closer to the side of the panel and moved the tool in his left hand to the right, his favoured arm. The object was thin and cylindrical, similar to the implement carpenters used to mark soft wood for dowelling rods. In fact he had secured it from a passing merchant, who’d used it to punch holes in leather for laces. For tonight, it would make the ideal instrument. Not too long...he did not want to kill outright. That would come later. But sharp and brutal enough to do what he planned to do.

When he had discovered Cuk’s nasty secret from a whispered aside, his first instinct was to rush to the enforcers quarters and hack him to death on the spot. Only his mistress prevented him doing just that. After he calmed down a little, he reluctantly agreed that murdering Cuk, although immensely satisfying... would mean his own slow and painful death on the scaffold...it would be counterproductive. This way he would get his revenge on the scum who liked watching the innocent Naomi bathe and still be able to enjoy the slow revenge of the Sultans inquisitors?

In place now, he raised the weapon to head height, resting his large hand on his own left shoulder. He knew exactly the spot and velocity required, because he had practised the strike alone in his own quarters on a crudely humanised melon for three consecutive nights to make sure his aim would be true when needed.

Tomas could hear Cuk breathing heavily now, mere inches away. The excitement the Viziers executioner was exhibiting made Tomas’s blood chill. This animal had been leching on his precious Naomi for weeks. Time for the piper to be paid. Taking a deep and silent breath, the Nubian tensed his muscles, ready for the blow. 

He had arranged for a random slave girl to appear in the chamber now, and right on cue the dim light was increased slightly as another torch was lit across the room. Flickering shadows now covered the pale walls. The girl left straight after her task...she had no further part to play and Tomas wanted no witnesses to his actions. Once the job was done, he would melt away as smoothly as he had arrived, dispose of the weapon from a high window over the river and retire to his quarters.

The breathing on the other side of the panel increased in pace again. Tomas heard a softly spoken order, then a faint groan from Cuk as the other person in the small room obeyed. Tomas’s nose wrinkled in disgust. His own humiliation during that first terrible period in the palace still made him wake occasionally in a sweat. He had his own reasons to hate Cuk quite apart from tonight's. Years ago, he had been the unidentified adolescent kneeling to service the brutal assassin.

The time had come. His hand tensed again and he leaned just a small distance nearer the panel. The enforcer, who was obviously being expertly sucked by whichever slave he had brought with him, was breathing harder now, small pants making Tomas aware of his targets exact position behind the flimsy latticework.

His hand when it struck, was a blur. He had deliberately covered the bottom of the shaft with thick cotton webbing, wrapped tightly round it. Enough to allow the spike to penetrate, but not enough to reach the brain. The idea was to wound and incapacitate, not to kill.

The eyeball is a vulnerable sphere full of viscous liquid. When abruptly penetrated by a sharp and narrow object, it pops like a small balloon.

The sound it made when the blade struck made Tomas flinch, even though it was his action which had created it. There was a short pause, while the receptors in the man’s nervous system registered instant agonising pain and lack of vision. Then Cuk exploded in a visceral roar of anguish. Tomas heard him stagger backwards and wail again as the slave who was between his legs must have started in fear. What Tomas had not counted on was the human bite reflex. Shock and surprise can cause people to bite down...hard.

Another high pitched shriek filled the air as the slave boys sharp teeth bloodily raked the sensitive flesh between them. Then he yelled too as his master, still holding his useless eye with one palm, used his fist to hammer away the boy kneeling before him. His damaged erection pulsed jets of crimson fluid over the slaves face as he fell heavily against the outer door. Tomas was already walking quickly out of the harem as the sounds of Cuk’s continued agony filled the night air. He heard multiple pounding footsteps as Imperial Guard troops rushed along the corridors towards the source of the uproar.

His task complete, Tomas washed his hands carefully, after disposing of the weapon out of the window, then he took a long draught of sweet apple liqueur. Unlike many of his contemporaries, he rarely used alcohol as a balm for his anxieties. But tonight he felt able to make an exception. Tonight was a good night…

XXX

Emilia was frustrated...and bored...and unhappy. None of the emotions she had expected to feel after her initial meeting with the gloriously beautiful princess. But it had been over two weeks now and, as she carefully folded expensive silks beside the royal bed, she could hear the sound of casual chatter and splashing from the private bath chamber next door. The door was ajar, but her view was obstructed by a thin cotton veil which partly hid the naked occupants.

It just isn’t fair she sulked as she put away recently laundered royal underclothing in a large hardwood cabinet. It should be her in there, talking easily to the princess, her hands washing that beautiful body with infinite care. Instead it was her sister enjoying the closeness and companionship Emilia craved.

Ever since that first meeting, she felt as though she had been deliberately shunned, avoided. Her brief but intense sexual experiences with Yasmina had taught her the signs of mutual attraction. She wasn’t foolish enough to think the princess would launch herself straight into a full blown affair with her new servant. That was just wishful thinking and something restricted to the rare times when Emilia was alone and able to indulge in some satisfying self exploration. Fantasies about her mistress were frequent and lurid, its true, but they were always tempered by the knowledge that her attraction to the princess was more than merely physical. There had been some sort of connection between their minds that morning...something much more than simple lust.

She sighed heavily as the sound of laughter again reached her from the other room. Katerina was enjoying the closeness to her new mistress and was milking it shamelessly. Rivalry between the twins was a given ever since the womb, and Kati was never one to deny herself a little triumphalism.

Clothes folded and put away, Emilia stood by the window and looked out wistfully over the bustling city. The Topkapi Palace was arranged in several concentric compounds, four in all. The harem and these private royal apartments were in the centre, guarded by several manned gates. It was a prison of a kind and part of her longed for the freedom she had enjoyed up till now. True, she had no desire to be matched with a local boy, she’d made that clear by word and deed, but after Yasmina showed her that love can be found in other, unexpected places, she’d harboured the secret desire to be in some sort of relationship now she was fully grown. But the dream had soon soured up here in the scented chambers of the palace. Katerina was now apparently the princesses favourite. Emilia relegated to chamber maid and skivvy, excluded from all personal duties.

It hurt.

Just then the princess and her sister emerged, both wrapped in white towelling from the bath chamber, giggling at something Kati had just said. They looked more like friends than mistress and servant. Try as she might, Emilia could not keep dismay from her face. For a split second Naomi’s intense eyes recognised the pain in Emi’s, but then her face regained its normal composure.

“Have you completed your tasks Emilia?” she said in a businesslike voice. Emilia nodded sadly.

“Yes your highness...quite finished”

“Then you may be relieved until lunchtime girl...I have no need of you until then?”

This time Emilia knew the hurt on her face was even more obvious. Dismissed like a slave...while her sister smirked beside the princess. She felt tears brim in her eyes and fiercely wiped them away with the back of one hand. This was humiliation, pure and simple. She was totally confused and bewildered as to why she was being singled out like this. 

Her throat choked as she bowed slightly, looking up to see the smirk on Kati’s face disappear as her twin recognised Emi was on the verge of real tears. Through her blurry vision Emi thought she recognised another crack in the veneer of indifference Naomi was hiding behind. But hopelessness made her reckless. As she straightened, she made an impulsive request.

“Very good my lady...would it be permissible in that case for me to visit the main harem this morning? Fatima, the girl who used to be your body servant has asked if I could help her pick fruit in the orchard for supper?”

There was a silence that stretched for long seconds. Emilia was well aware that Fatima, her mistresses ex maid, was strongly attracted to her. The dusky Egyptian girl with khole ringed eyes had made no secret of a desire to get to know her better. From the day after Emilia arrived, Fatima had tried very hard to be her new close friend. Out in the compound, the rumours about Fatima’s appetite for other pretty girls was common knowledge. Emilia had no idea if the princess knew this too, but by the way her eyes widened and her mouth turned down, it seemed she just might.

In truth, Emilia’s words had struck at Naomi’s heart like a dagger. Her own experience of Fatima’s wandering hands was proof enough that the girl was attracted to women. And Emilia was very attractive...no, she was beautiful…. 

Since that first meeting, Naomi had known that if she allowed Emilia to get too close to her, she would be utterly lost. Several times she had considered asking her mothers advice on what to do. But instead she took the easy option offered by having twin body servants and allowed Kati to tend to her most personal needs. The girl was equally as pretty as Emilia, but her eyes held no desire for her mistress...and that was important. She could not...no, she would not allow herself to fall for this dark haired beauty...she was a princess after all. It had nothing to do with giving in to her natural physical desires...this was more a matter of the heart...and it frightened her half to death.

“I suppose so” she said reluctantly “...but be back here when the bell strikes twice. I will have need of you then?”

Emilia’s eyes dropped again. So there was nothing to hope for any more. This brusque dismissal proved that. She bowed again and without looking at her sister or Naomi again, walked to the door with a stiff back and closed it firmly behind her. If that truly was that...she needed to spend some time with someone who actually liked her. It wasn’t compulsory of course for her mistress to like her, but the pain of constant rejection was crushing Emilia...always the sensitive one...she bruised very easily.

When the door closed, there was another silence as long as the previous one. Katerina kept her head down as she finished drying her mistress and mutely selected dresses for a head shake or a nod. Both girls were deep in their own thoughts. Both felt guilty for hurting Emilia, but for different reasons. Kati had a lifetime of rivalry to fall back on. It was normal for her to try to dominate Emi...but it was getting harder to keep this charade going. Naomi had not spoken to her about why she was being so harsh and distant to her sister, but Kati did not need an explanation. She was a keen first hand observer of the two over the past weeks. Naomi was constantly shooting glances at her sister when Emi was busy and Emilia might as well have had a sign on her chest saying she was madly in love with the princess. Several times this past week, Kati had been woken by muffled crying from the bed opposite her. Her sister was suffering from all this rejection and it worried her. Even though Emilia was a quiet, agreeable girl, she still had her mothers fiery genes. Under the surface, she was a cauldron of suppressed emotions. Katerina knew if this carried on much longer, it was possible her sister would do something reckless.

Something that the sly Fatima would enjoy very much.

So, she took a deep breath and waited until Naomi had settled on the long couch by the open window. The draped silks twisted and sighed in the gentle breeze from the garden outside. They called it the Perfumed Garden, and at this time of year, it lived up to its reputation. All sorts of exotic and fragrant blooms were just budding. The air was heavy with exquisite aromas. An idyllic scene maybe, but something had to be done before Emi crushed her own chances with a rash decision. Kati decided that it was time she ventured an opinion. Maybe shock therapy would work?

“Princess…?” she said slowly “...may I speak freely?”

Naomi’s eyes narrowed and she sat up straighter. Her own thoughts had very much been on the absent Emilia too.

“I suppose so, Kati” she said

“My sister is very unhappy, mistress?” Katerina almost whispered.

Naomi started at that. She hadn’t been expecting such a direct comment, even if she had given permission for the girl to be open.

“I don’t understand why she should be...” she said “...is the position not to her liking...the quarters not comfortable...the clothes we provided not pretty enough…?”

She was deliberately prevaricating and they both knew it.

“No...my lady...you have been very generous to us both. Nothing we own or enjoy is a problem. We are both very grateful for being given the chance to serve your highness?” 

“So, what is it then?” Naomi asked, hoping the girl would not actually tell her the truth. But she misunderstood the strength of the bond between the twins. Katerina steeled herself to risk the princesses anger. Something had to be said.

“She is very unhappy because she believes you do not like her” Kati said, keeping her eyes down.

“When have I ever given that impression girl?” Naomi snapped. Kati knew she was on thin ice...but decided to come right out with it. Things couldn’t go on as they were. Emilia was upset and lonely...and Fatima was all too keen to slip into the vacant position as her best friend...and more.

“You said I could speak freely, princess?”

“Go on...but tread carefully Katerina...tread carefully” Naomi frowned.

Kati sighed and looked up at her mistress.

“My sister is in love with you, princess Naomi...she has been from the moment your eyes met on the first day. She knows she is but a lowly servant and unworthy of your affection...but she’s a sensitive creature...always has been. You have been quite... harsh... on occasion mistress?...and its hurting her greatly… she thinks you dislike her for some reason and I fear if she thinks that...she might be vulnerable...vulnerable to….to...”

Katerina stopped there...she could not find the words to describe what she knew was likely to happen if Emilia lost hope altogether, but whatever it was, it would wreck both their lives, she knew that much. If the princess...who wasn’t half as good as she thought she was at hiding her own feelings...found out Emilia was being bedded by Fatima, they would probably both be dismissed instantly. Sent back to their family in disgrace.

Naomi sat with her mouth open. She had allowed the girl to speak freely...but this? Her mind swirled with competing emotions. Shock, remorse, fear and self loathing...recycled again and again. Finally she composed herself. She had not realised her treatment of the younger twin was being seen as deliberately cruel….she only sought to protect herself..her fragile heart. 

Then she remembered where she had just given Emi permission to go, and stood up abruptly. She needed to speak to her mother first about this. Gia was unshockable. Much as Naomi pretended not to need her advice, this was one time when her opinion would be required. But first…

“Right...um, yes... right. Thats quite enough being ‘free’ Kati. Go immediately to the orchards, tell your sister two things. I want her back here immediately...and...and tell her...I am sorry for appearing to be cruel to her, I didn’t mean for her to think that I do not, uh...like her. You are both important to my household...and I want my... umm...staff... to be very happy working here…?”

Katerina smiled to herself as she walked quickly out of the room to carry out the princess’s orders. Emilia would be ecstatic when she told her what Naomi had said...she ignored the nonsense about keeping her ‘staff’ happy. That was just a smokescreen. Naomi was now rightly worried that someone else might replace her in Emilia’s affections. About time the slipper was on the other foot?

XXX

Gia waited for her daughter to arrive with one eye on the outside. She’d had a feeling that Naomi might seek her advice over the new girl. Like Katerina, the Sultana had watched the unsubtle interplay between the two over the past weeks. Emilia was delightful, she decided. A perfect foil for her sometimes haughty daughter. It was clear Naomi was interested in being much more than a friend to the girl...but unused to the subtleties of mutual attraction, her daughter was being typically skittish. Emilia was obviously smitten with Naomi too. If Gia played the game well, the younger twin would turn out to be the perfect companion for her princess in the troubles ahead. But she knew Naomi would wrestle the matter over and over in her head to complete distraction. She’d always liked to over analyse everything. Sooner or later though, she knew Naomi would come to her for advice.

But things were complicated by what was going on in the court below right now. Tomas’s assault on Cuk had the desired consequences. Naomi had been kept in the dark about this part of the plan, but the rest of the court was agog with shock at the sudden downfall of the Viziers favourite.

After he had been apprehended staggering bloody and blinded from the secret room, Cuk had been taken to the chambers below the guard house. There, the palace torturers had extracted every piece of information the assassin possessed about his trespassing. Breaching the harem was a capital crime, so even his contacts could not save him from the scaffold. But the Sultan, outraged at this invasion of his daughters most private moments, had ignored the Viziers entreaties for Cuk to be spared the worst kind of execution. An example must be made. The Sultan instructed his Imperial Guard and their executioners to prepare well. As an unknowing Naomi walked to her mothers quarters, still over thinking her options, a small, select crowd was gathering in the lowest compound of the palace, out of sight of the royal apartments. The wooden scaffold which stood in the middle of the gravel square had been reinforced and extended. It was necessary to support both the thick wooden frame over a trapdoor in the centre and the burly prisoner. Normally, condemned prisoners were executed with a blade over a block. Forced to their knees and within seconds, parted from their heads by the skilful downstroke of the scimitar. Quick, clean and certain.

But this crime was special in its infamy. Spying on the harem was bad enough, but Cuk under torture had revealed his previous observations of the princess Naomi herself unclothed whilst being pleasured by the boy. The room he had used had been walled up since. Its gated access also sealed completely. No else would be allowed such a brazen abuse of their position.

The boy who had been servicing Cuk as he waited for the princess to appear was dispatched more humanely. The inquisitors soon found out, as his toe nails were pulled out with pliers, that his was a peripheral role. But he had knowledge of the secret room, the court had no time for subtleties.

A day after his broken frame was dragged from the torture chambers, he was tossed unceremoniously from the highest tower onto the cobbles a hundred feet below. As the blood spread from his small body, a passing boy grinned at the almost new leather shoes scattered by the youth. They were speedily grabbed and hidden under the strangers jacket. A bounty indeed.

But Cuk’s ending was to be more...spectacular.

Dragged like his servant to the square, his one good eye scanned the crowd of onlookers for a sympathetic face. But that was in short supply. His master the Vizier, ordered by the Sultan to attend, kept his eyes firmly on anything but his creature. This was no time to ally himself with such a transgressor, especially as he still craved the Princess for himself.

Knees broken by hammers and burns from the red hot irons vivid over his naked torso, Cuk tried hard not to scream or beg as the less than gentle guards half carried him to the scaffold. Up the short stairs and onto the platform. He saw the noose and almost sobbed in gratitude. Hanging then...it could be worse, he rationalised. Aside from the headsman with his heavy blade, this was at least quick.

But that was not the plan. True, there was a noose, heavy hemp and knotted. But the trap door hid a much worse method of killing. As Cook was propped up on the platform, the trapdoors were opened. Underneath, behind a curtain which was now parted to reveal the horror below to the onlookers, was a huge vat of boiling oil. Vapour and heat shimmered upwards as he stood to one side, staring in disbelief at his fate.

“Noo...n...no...my lord no!” he shouted tremulously “I...I beg you Grand Vizier, master, Sultan Selim...Lord...save me from this...”

He knew, even as his executioners prepared him, that his words were wasted. His life had been a long journey of battle, savagery and brutality. Many men and women...children too, had died at his hands. Now was not the time to ask for clemency.

The noose was pushed over his head and the knot lodged at the back of his neck. The drop, when it came, was not into the steaming vat below. In fact it was less than a foot. Enough to choke, to hurt...but not enough to kill.

For ten seconds or so, he was left to dangle. Twisting, choking and moaning in pain. His lungs screamed for air until after another ten seconds, his body began to convulse. His final ejaculation was not into the body of an unwilling slave girl, or the eager mouth of his personal body servant, but into the bloody and ragged cloth which had been placed around his waist to preserve a small amount of modesty.

The executioners, skilled in their craft, saw the involuntary twitch of his hips and recognised the signs of impending death. That was not the end they had been ordered to arrange. Instead, one of them lifted a gurgling Cuk by the waist until another could loosen the noose and instead widen and lower it until it could be tucked under his arms. Suspended like this, two other hooded men took the strain and the beam above creaked as he was lowered towards the vat below. Yet another hooded figure stoked the fire below the metal vat vigorously, keeping the viscous fluid inside bubbling thickly. 

Inch by inch, Cuk was lowered into the vat. Half hung he might be, but the first caress of the oil on his bare feet jerked him into instant howling consciousness.

It took over a minute for him to die, during which time his body was lowered at the same agonisingly slow pace...inch by inch, before his high pitched shrieking ended. When his head finally flopped to one side, a signal was given and the men above released the rope, allowing his body to slip fully into the vat with a loud hiss.

The spectacle was over...and so was the life of Cuk the enforcer.

XXX

Naomi looked up as a murmur in the distant courtyard rose to a shout, as if a hundred men were calling out something at once, then carried on into her mothers chambers. Whatever it was out there, it had nothing to do with her…

XXX

Last one this year. Graphic and unpleasant maybe, but I had this gruesome episode in my head when I came up with the whole idea of the story. Sorry if it offends any Cook lovers!

Next chapter, if anyone cares, will be all Naomily. Lots of fluff and smut...better?


	6. Six

Emilia was still upset and angry for a while before Kati found her. But by the time her sister got to the back of the orchard, she had already met up with Fatima and the pretty Egyptian soon had her smiling, even though her eyes were still a little red rimmed. The Princess may have been able to make her cry with her indifference, but out in the orchard with the birds singing cheerfully in the trees and bees buzzing from flower to flower, it was hard to remain unhappy. Fatima used her impressive eyelashes to great effect, batting them over her dark eyes as she flirted shamelessly with the younger twin. She’d only been chatting to her for a few minutes before Emi looked over from her position on the lowest branch of a large pear tree to see Katerina approaching. Her laughter turned to a scowl as she watched her sister walk purposefully across the fruit strewn grass towards them. Whatever she wanted, Emilia decided she wasn’t interested.

Kati stood under the gnarled, thick branch and stared up at her sister.

“Emi…? The Princess wants you to return immediately to her rooms?” she said, shielding her eyes from the bright sunshine streaming through the upper branches.

“Does she now?” Emi said shortly “...seems to me she wanted nothing of the sort just a few minutes ago...wanted me right out of her sight more like...Whatever she needs, I’m sure you will perform the service better than me, sister dearest?”

Kati sighed as Fatima added her own scowl to the lack of welcome in the air.

“Emi...its not for us to question our mistress’s instructions...go to her now?”

Emilia shook her head stubbornly.

“Tell her you couldn’t find me...I’m having fun actually...with my friend?” 

The emphasis on the last word was cutting and Kati sighed again. She had a feeling walking over here that it wouldn’t be as easy as just asking. Her sister could be very stubborn. She reached up and tugged at the hem of Emi’s pink gauzy pantaloons.

“Emi...come down here...I need to tell you something...something private?” she wheedled. 

Emi sighed in resignation this time. She knew it was pointless arguing in the end. However spiteful she felt towards her sister and her mistress, a servant had no right to deny her employers orders, specially a royal one. But she felt like she needed to make a point while she could, from her temporarily elevated position.

“Whats the matter Kati...is there something the princess needs that you can’t supply, sister?” sh said sarcastically “It looked like you two were the best of friends when you were bathing her so diligently this morning. Anyone would think you were starting to appreciate the female form as much as Fatima and I do?”

Fatima, from her position beside the tree trunk, giggled darkly at her sisters jibe, making Kati glare at her angrily.

“Don’t be silly Emi...I was just doing what the princess asked of me?” she tried.

The Egyptian girl chuckled again and said something low under her breath. Kati glared again and stood with hands on hips. Her sister might be able to tease her, but she wasn’t taking sly innuendo’s from a slave girl. Even as servants there was a hierarchy. Just because Emi indulged the girl, didn’t mean she had to.

“Be quiet girl...or I’ll be sure to let the princess know that you’re gossiping about her private business in public...maybe they need a new body servant down in the soldiers barracks?”

The smirk was instantly wiped off Fatima’s face. She knew what awaited any ‘body servant’ in the infamous barracks. The rough and brutal uniformed men down there would care little about her alternative sexual preferences. She’d be lucky to survive the first night. She dropped her eyes and nodded in submission.

“Sorry Katerina...I’ll just….uh...see you later Emi?”

Kati and Emi watched her walk away with different emotions. Relief for Kati...now she could talk to her sister freely. Annoyance for Emi...her ally had retreated at the first flash of anger from her already famously volcanic sister.

“Thanks a lot for scaring her off Kati...she’s my friend...why did you have to say something like that…?”

Kati shrugged. The emotional well being of Fatima was of supreme indifference to her. 

“Come down Emi...I have something I think you’ll want to hear?”

Curiosity got the better of Emi in the end. Annoyed as she was at being interrupted having fun with Fatima, it was unlikely Kati had walked all this way without good reason. She clambered nimbly off the branch and stood in front of her twin, brushing white petals off her bare midriff and shoulders.

“Well…? What is so important you’ve had to drag yourself away from tending to every whim of the princess Naomi?”

Kati winced. She knew there was good reason for her sisters anger. It was true she’d played up to the favouritism she enjoyed. Lording it over Emi was hard wired into her system. But in truth she loved her sister fiercely and knowing she was genuinely hurt gave her no pleasure at all.

“Look Emi...I’m sorry...truly. I know what Naomi is doing...using me to keep her distance from you….its wrong. But I took a big risk after she sent you away...I spoke candidly to her...told her she was making you very unhappy by acting like this?”

Emilia’s mouth dropped open, Whatever she thought her sister had to say, this definitely wasn’t it.

“Kati?...” she said in a shocked voice “...why would even you say such a thing to her. She might just dismiss me now...send me back to our parents…?”

Kati shook her head.

“No...that wasn’t her reaction at all Emi...in fact she was pretty alarmed. We both know she’s as attracted to you as you are to her? She’s just scared...scared of feeling like that about you. So she’s used me as substitute...given me all the personal tasks...kept you at arms length. But I think she realises now how that must make you feel. I took a chance, but it paid off. I know she wants to talk to you about her feelings...you need to go to her chambers right away. She said something about talking to her mama first..but you really need to be there when she gets back?”

Emilia’s head spun with the news. Her mouth closed with a snap, then she smiled genuinely for the first time in what seemed like weeks at her twin sister.

“Yes...I...I’ll go right now...I...I…?” Emi stuttered.

“Yes, yes...you can thank me later...if you’re not snuggled up to the princess all night that is?” Kati smirked, earning her a sharp punch on the arm from Emi as she passed her.

“Ouch” Kati said “...I bring you wonderful news and all you do is hit me...I’d save your energy sister dear...I think the princess might be quite, uh...demanding... of your services in the future?”

Her amused giggle followed a furiously blushing Emilia out of the orchard as she hurried back to the royal chambers.

Neither twin saw a pair of rheumy and baleful eyes watching them from a nearby tower.

XXX

“But mother...she’s a girl...and my servant too...and...and...”

Naomi was running out of excuses, now she was just repeating herself. Gia waited silently for her daughter to splutter to a halt before saying anything more.

“...and unless I’m very much mistaken, Emilia is head over heels in love with you daughter...haven’t I told you before that in this unstable and dangerous world, you have to seize love with both hands when it comes into your life? I’ve heard all these reasons from you about why this is such a bad idea...but not yet what you think about her? Forget the fact that she’s a girl...a very beautiful girl I might say...and the servant issue? If the empire crashed down into a pile of rubble tomorrow, would any of that really matter? Everything around you is fragile and temporary Naomi...we humans like to think we are masters of the world, but the older you get, the more you realise that it will go on long after we are dust. What really matters is what we do while we’re here. Love is eternal daughter...who we love matters little. Now...I want honesty...do you think you could love our pretty little Emilia?”

Naomi gaped again at her mothers ability to astound her. Unshockable she might be, but brutally honest too on occasion. The Princess knew that lying to Gia was pointless anyway. Her mother had always been able to see through her untruths, even the little childish ones when she’d spilled a flower vase or broken a china drinking cup. She sighed, much as Emilia had sighed when her sister cut through her own manufactured anger earlier.

“But...but you said I am to be betrothed to the Vizier in six moons...he would never allow me to keep Emilia as a personal servant if we were to marry...he has his own household?”

Gia smiled serenely as Naomi wasted her remaining ammunition. She had absolutely no intention of allowing the Grand Vizier to possess her only daughter. The plans she was implementing were only half realised, but the crowd shouting from the lower compound earlier had confirmed that the first part had succeeded well enough. The assassin Cuk was no longer a threat to anyone. 

“Still waiting for you to answer me, child” she smiled patiently.

Naomi shrugged, blushed then glared pointlessly at her mother.

“Alright...I give in...I think...I think actually she’s perfect in every way...but why she would even want me now, after I’ve made her life a misery for weeks, I don’t know. I love her shy little smiles...the way her nose wrinkles when she concentrates on something and her laughter...I love...Oh stop it mama…!”

The last, because now Gia was laughing at her. Not cruel laughter, just satisfaction at how easily her daughter revealed her true feelings.

Gia impulsively hugged her daughter to her as Naomi huffed her exaggerated annoyance. The girl was never one for too much intimate contact, but her mother thought even that might be about to end too. The way her child’s intense blue eyes had lit up when she started listing Emilia’s good points was unmistakeable. Aphrodite herself had pierced her proud daughters heart with the arrow of desire, that was clear. Years spent in the Sultans harem may have blunted Gia’s memories of the old Greek Gods, but she knew true love when she saw it. Her daughter had been hit by a thunderbolt. The second part of the 6th wife’s plan was happening.

XXX

Emilia sat nervously in the Princess’s private chambers. Katerina had promised to stay away until late in the afternoon. A slave had brought some figs, dates, sliced apricots and freshly baked bread on a platter, along with a flagon of sweet lemon water. At first Emilia had paced up and down the room, but as the minutes passed, she realised it might be a while before Naomi finished her talk with her mother. Her own encounters with the Sultana had been brief up to now, but the woman had an easy smile and always seemed to have time for a kind word for everyone. Twice, in the first day or so Emi had been here, she thought she caught Naomi’s mother glancing from herself to Katerina, studying them as if trying to decide on something. But now her feelings for Naomi were in the open, courtesy of her sisters big mouth, it all depended on the Sultana’s blessing for her alone. So Emilia fidgeted in her chair and waited.

Just as she was starting to worry that the food would go stale and she would have to ring for the slave to take it away, the door to the private chambers opened and a familiar figure stood there, making her heart beat hard and her skin tingle.

Naomi.

Not the haughty, confident Naomi of these past days either. Her eyes skipped from side to side as if she was afraid to meet Emilia’s. Her frown wasn’t an angry one, more anxious and her body posture was defensive, arms crossed in front of her. Emilia rose automatically, the servants instinctive response to the arrival of a mistress. She saw Naomi’s eyes widen as the princess moved closer. Naomi took a deep breath and bit her bottom lip...a gesture Emi decided on the spot was her new favourite habit. The tingle in her stomach changed into a sudden warmth. God she’s beautiful, was her instant reaction. From the indifference of this morning, the princess looked almost scared to approach her now.

“Princess…?” Emi said, wishing her voice didn’t go so husky at the very sight of the other girl. Naomi, too got her own sensation of weakness at the familiar tone. 

“Naomi….call me Naomi when we’re alone Emi....yes?”

Emilia almost swayed with surprise. She rolled the name around her head a while before speaking.

“Naomi….” she said in the same hoarse tone, not even realising she was vocalising her thoughts.

Naomi stepped closer and seemed to make a decision. That lip bite was apparent again and Emi felt herself drawn towards the princess like a moth to a candle.

“Naomi…?” she said again. 

It was enough. The resistance the blonde girl had clung to like a life raft in a stormy sea was swept away.

“I...I...I can’t stand it….just can’t be like this any more Emi...I have to….” she choked. For a split second, Emilia thought there might be disappointment after all...the words could be taken both ways. But as Naomi’s eyes pleaded with her to understand, her arms came up in mute appeal too. This gesture could not be mistaken. This was no royal mistress, this was a frightened girl who craved physical contact. Naomi might have been reluctant in the past to allow such intimacies, but Emilia was well accustomed to shows of affection like this back home. She needed no further prompting. She surged forward and enveloped the taller girl in a hug so tight, Naomi squeaked in surprise at first. But the shock quickly turned to trembling delight as Emi ran her hands gently over the smooth skin of her back.

Both girls were wearing similar clothing. The loose cotton pantaloons favoured by women when in their own quarters, a bare midriff and a band of plain silk covering their breasts. The heat of the Turkish day made it necessary to wear clothing loose and non restrictive. But it also left an awful lot lot of flesh bare. Flesh that was now being pressed very closely together. 

Emi shivered as the thing she had been dreaming of finally came true. Naomi wasn’t behaving like a princess, but a lover. The smaller girls heart pounded as their bodies moulded around each other...as if designed to complement one another. 

Naomi’s ragged breathing was harsh in her ear. Emi shivered again as the heat in her belly grew. But she knew this ‘new’ Naomi was still scared, skittish. Like a new born foal, unused to this frightening new world. Her body urged her to take things further straight away...to lie with the taller girl on the day bed...take her in the way that Yasmina had taken Emi on those long and glorious nights in her own bed. She sensed that Naomi was vulnerable to that sort of loving if she pressed. But she wasn’t ready yet...and lust was only one of the emotions surging through the dark eyed girls body. Love was there too...and she wasn’t about to compromise one with the other. So instead she relaxed the hug and pulled back, looking straight into those amazing azure eyes. They stared at each other for a long moment before Emi impulsively leaned forward and pressed her lips onto Naomi’s. Soft kisses...lots of small, soft kisses. She felt Naomi relax slightly as they just enjoyed each others open mouths. Obviously, her initial instinct to make love with the princess was on Naomi’s mind too...so this gentle and sensitive introduction was strangely comforting. Eventually, oxygen deficit meant that they had to separate, but as her lips left the blonde’s, Emi heard a small sound of pure disappointment which thrilled her.

“We have our whole lives, my love” she breathed, stroking the soft cheek she had dreamed about touching so often before. “...so much time for us to do everything….”

She left the ‘everything’ hanging in the air so that Naomi could absorb it. Everything was about the most tempting prospect on earth at the moment, but she knew that small steps would be required. This was no Yasmina, older, wiser and schooled thoroughly in the arts of Sappho. There was time and opportunity for all that she had learned to be used to delight the princess over and over again, but for now there were kisses and caresses that did not lead to other, earthier things. Patience, Emi knew instinctively, would be rewarded richly soon enough.

After another few minutes of breathless kissing, they ended up side by side, holding hands on the day bed by the open window. The same scented air wafted in as had earlier, but it seemed to Naomi and Emi that the world was smiling on them in a special way now. The air seemed to sparkle, the flowers and trees more vivid and intense. For a brief moment, the princess thought of her mothers words about seizing love wherever it came from and decided then and there that in future she would heed that advice to the letter. The beautiful girl holding her hand and stroking her skin with a smooth finger was a gift from the almighty. One she would not spurn any longer.

“Emi.,..my love…?” she said softly and watched with delight a blush spread over the girls cheeks at the unexpected endearment “...I have been foolish and unkind to you...”

Emilia went to interrupt, but Naomi shook her head. “...no, let me say this...because I need to be honest with you. I have been unfair...treating you so coldly...just because I was scared of feeling this way about you. I’m not used to love...at least not this kind of love. Mama loves me of course, Tomas too...and my father in his own way. But theirs is a different kind of love. I came from mama’s body, so she has to love me. My father rarely sees me, but I know he is very fond of me. But I am just a pawn in their game in some ways...I know that. Royal daughters are not as free as you think. Politics is always in the background. Tomas loves me because he has protected me from the day I was born and because he worships mama, the Sultana more than life itself. But you...you have chosen to love me. And that scared me to death...because...because I have the same feelings for you too...from the moment we first met...it was like I had no control around you. If I had let myself do what I wanted to do, I might have spoiled everything. I wasn’t ready then...but Emi…?”

She gripped Emilia’s hands in her own and leaned closer.

“...Emi my love...I am ready now. Ready to love you and for you to love me...can you forgive a foolish girl?”

Tears formed in the smaller girls eyes as the confession tumbled out of her princess. She gulped once before blinking her eyes clear.

“Forgive? Naomi my sweet, I could forgive you anything but not loving me. If you are brave enough to want me...a poor and wretched servant girl...I will be yours for as long as the sun rises and sets. Love is in my heart for you...more love than I thought it was possible for one person to have for another. So forgive? A thousand times yes...”

Naomi’s smile rivalled the sun in its intensity...she kissed the tips of Emi’s fingers one by one and hugged her tight. No more doubts, no more hesitation...she was going to take her mama’s advice and clutch this love to her chest and never let go.

They spent the afternoon just talking...and kissing...oh so much kissing. At times it was hard for them to even move without being in constant contact with one another. The lunch meal had to be returned to the kitchens after all, because so much kissing let it go stale. It was touch and go with the second serving too, but bruised lips and the need to stay reasonably formal in front of the slaves meant that they eventually ate and drank a small amount, before more kissing occurred. When Kati finally reappeared, winking at her sister knowingly and sharing a tiny smile with a grateful Naomi, the three sat together in the welcome breeze from the window, talking like normal young girls for the first time. Emilia glowed with happiness as she listened to her sister share a scandalous story involving a eunuch, some vegetables and two minor wives in the harem with a horrified but giggling Naomi...her love and her sister happy and relaxed together with her...and there was the night yet to come, with its exotic promise...life was now perfect.

XXX

A day later

The Vizier glowered at the cowering girl at his feet. Fatima had been abruptly summoned after he had seen her yesterday being dismissed by one of the princess’s twin servants in the orchard. She was supposed to be his creature, culled from the endless obliging slave girls in the harem, but without the late unlamented Cuk as an intermediary, he was now forced to get information from her directly. Distasteful but necessary.

“Girl...what have you gleaned for me...what information?”

Fatima quaked as the corpulent Vizier stared at her. She had promised to keep Cuk informed about anything to do with the Princess months before. But at that time she had access to Naomi personally. If it hadn’t been for her attraction to the beautiful blonde, maybe she would still be part of the inner circle. But soaping and washing that virginal beauty had been overwhelming. Her hands seemed to have minds of their own. At first Naomi allowed her certain... liberties. Fatima knew that even princesses had desires and needs, surely Naomi satisfied herself when alone at night? So when she met no initial resistance, Fatima pressed her luck. But one caress too many, one sly finger lingering to long on a certain spot and she found herself reduced to fetching hot water. Other, less intrusive hands were allowed to travel over that wonderful pale body. And then the twins had arrived. From the first day, Fatima knew that her chances of getting as close to Naomi again were slim. The glances Naomi and Emilia, the quieter twin exchanged were a signal no keen observer could miss. It was obvious Emilia was now the object of her mistresses attraction. For a while before that though, Fatima was surprised that the matter did not develop as she expected. Instead, Katerina, the bolder, more voluptuous twin, was allowed to carry out the more personal duties. For some reason, Emilia was frozen out. She allowed herself to hope…

But today had shown that Emilia was back in the princess’s favour. And that presented a big problem. From being Naomi’s body servant, she was now third in line. Such information she used to get easily was now almost impossible to obtain first hand.

Then there was Cuk himself. No longer did the palace enforcers shadow loom long over them all. His boiled and stretched body was now somewhere in the Bosphorus, feeding small fishes. Instead, Fatima now had to deal direct with the Grand Vizier himself. A terrifying prospect at any time, far worse when you only had bad news for him.

She had suffered the occasional evening bent over furniture in Cuk’s quarters, allowing him his rutting pleasure. Her own preferences might be exclusively feminine, but no one denied a priapic Cuk his needs. An unpleasant interlude maybe, but necessary. In return for her trickle of information, Cuk only called on her occasionally. He even allowed her to openly pleasure the few slave girls who showed a willingness to let her. As a prelude to taking another innocents virginity, he was like any other man...happy to let Fatima loosen the unfortunates inhibitions with soft kisses and nimble fingers. Only when the girl, slave or servant, was naked, gasping and almost at her delirious peak, did Cuk forcibly take what he wanted. Fatima was left to fend for herself while he emptied himself inside the living receptacle.

But Cuk was gone. His name and presence ruthlessly erased from the palace. Now Kamal the Vizier was her master. What could she offer him? His reputation as a man who could instantly spot an untruth was legendary. She knew if she tried a falsehood, he would unhesitatingly order her immediate destruction. But she had nothing to offer? Frantically, she searched her mind for a way out.

“My Lord...” she said in a whisper “...I have to report that the princess has now grown close to one of the twins who were brought here to serve her personal needs by the Sultana Gia. I still have access to the private apartments, but she relies on Emilia, the younger twin, for her closest requirements. Up until yesterday it was the older girl, but the slave who prepares their meals and makes up the princess’s bed tells me that Naomi spent last night...all night...with this Emilia girl. It seems she is besotted my Lord?”

None of that was untrue, that much she had gleaned from her own spy. But it was hardly the sort of information likely to impress the huge man now fixing her with his black and beady eyes. Eyes like the black mamba’s imported from Africa to terrify and poison the palace prisoners. She trembled in fear as she waited for his anger to erupt. Cuk could occasionally be distracted by the swell of a breast, a slyly revealed nipple, or a careless parting of her smooth thighs...but the Vizier was unlikely to be so easily side tracked.

So it was with shock that she heard a deep rumble of amusement come from above her. She opened her eyes and looked up at him in wonder. 

“Hmmm” he pondered “...this might be just what I have waited for...a chink in the little ice queens armour. Tell me girl...has the princess ever...succumbed to another's womanly attention before? Cuk told me, before his...uh.. untimely demise...that you have some considerable experience in pleasing girls?”

Fatima weighed her answer carefully. 

“I have some experience of pleasing a woman Lord...and a man of course. But I know of no occasion when the princess has enjoyed such favours before?”

He looked away from her for a long moment and the urge to flee while he was distracted was almost impossible to suppress. But Fatima forced herself to sit at his feet quietly as he considered. Finally he grunted and seemed to notice her again.

“Well...we’ll let this little one act comedy play out I think. Stay close to both the princess and those servants. I want to know anything you hear...understand girl...anything?”

She nodded eagerly...maybe with luck she would hear something juicy soon...something the Vizier might reward her for. She stood slowly, hoping for his permission to leave.

“You may go now girl...Fatima, isn’t it? Oh...and I have a guest tonight...someone important. Be here after supper...and bring that tall Nubian girl from the kitchens with you...the new one who arrived last week? My guest has asked for a little... entertainment... from two pretty girls before he decides which one of you to bed. Make sure the girl is eager and receptive to you Fatima...no clumsy faking it. I will know if you or she does?” 

Fatima kept the smile fixed to her face as she bowed and left, but it did not survive the door closing. Damn the fat oaf...now she had to persuade a no doubt horrified slave girl to pleasure her in front of an audience of two before being bedded by the Vizier or his unknown guest. Her own disgust at being party to this was tempered by the knowledge that it would at least be brief if she drew the Vizier in the twisted lottery. The gossip in the harem was that his performances, especially after being stimulated by a long sapphic show, were short and explosive. She shuddered as she walked quickly down to the Viziers personal kitchens...this was the part of her employment she hated. Much better an eager bed partner. Anger at Katerina for depriving her of a pleasant hour with the willing and nubile Emilia was still sharp inside her and this chore did not help. She knew the kitchen maid was pretty and shapely, but the chances were she wasn’t going to be happy about what she was going to be instructed to do tonight...

XXX

Fatima was still arguing with the tall Nubian girl in the kitchens when Naomi awoke. She stretched out her arms above her and yawned luxuriously. Strong sunlight and a gentle sea breeze from the open window told her that it was much later than the hour she normally rose. Then she heard a quiet, contented snuffle from beside her and the pleasant ache below made sense.

Emi...of course.

A wide smile was followed by a silent, delighted giggle. No wonder she was late waking...they hadn’t even gone to sleep until the cock crowed this morning a few minutes before dawn. Smooth warm skin met her searching hand and memories of last night flooded into her mind.

She had no idea, when they finally went to bed last night...literally no idea...how much pleasure her petite lover could provide. But she did now…

The faint ache between her legs reminded her of every touch, every stroke she’d enjoyed. She felt herself flushing at how wantonly she’d cried out again and again as Emi used all her skills to inflame her. From soft kisses, they had progressed quickly to getting each other naked. Naomi had been naked with and in front of a dozen or more slave girls and servants before. Her morning and evening attended baths soon disposed of any modesty about her own or other girls bodies. But then, apart from Fatima’s occasionally sly caresses, she had never actually slept with any of them. Not that sleep was on either her or Emi’s mind when they stood before each other.

In her inexperienced and infrequent explorations of her own body, Naomi had usually relied on one of the illustrated books secreted under her shawl when she raided her fathers private library for stimulation. Books from India and Persia...lush bodies entwined artistically on page after page, some in highly improbable positions. But in those times, she had felt a little ashamed at giving in to the desires her mind made on her body then. Release was quick and perfunctory...an act designed to relieve tension and allow her to sleep soundly more than anything.

But Emi had showed her that pleasure could be prolonged, intensified and oh so deliciously delayed. Part of Naomi was concerned that Emilia might be almost too experienced. She hadn’t known at first how much her new lover had learned from that obliging cousin...or if that was Emi’s only experience with other girls.

Emi had reassured her that the relationship with Yasmina had been brief and based on physical need not love. Mollified, Naomi had allowed Emi to begin her lessons again. And what lessons they were.

She’d had no idea that merely allowing your breasts to brush gently against another's would be so...so overwhelming. Add increasingly eager kisses to that contact and she was almost embarrassed at how quickly aroused she became, the considerable wetness between her legs was new...and when Emi’s fingers explored her there for the first time, she had to hold onto the girl kneeling opposite her on the bed before she collapsed. Then there were the sounds...the sounds of Emi breathing hard as she took her time stroking and probing Naomi. The liquid sounds of that slick exploration too. Her own hands seemed only to be able to clutch and spasm as Emi’s kisses travelled lower. When her nipples were lapped and sucked, Naomi had to stop the other girl for a moment...she was embarassed she would climax without even a hand down there to stimulate her. Pushed onto her back, she looked down with unbelieving eyes as Emilia slid between her open thighs and kissed and nipped with small teeth up one leg, then down the other...tormentingly slowly. All the time those dark eyes held hers. Naomi expected fingers...yes...but when Emi smiled up at her and lowered her mouth...there...she grabbed at the flowing hair spilling over her body and gasped aloud...she surely couldn’t mean to...with her mouth...her tongue...there?

Emilia could...and did, with softly murmured sounds of sheer contentment as she feasted. Slowly, gently but with increasing passion, that agile tongue worshipped her princess. Tracing patterns around her open sex...inside her sex, before when Naomi begged...yes begged her not to stop...used fingers and tongue in a stunning pas de deux...thrusting inside (not too deeply, for obvious reasons) and lapping at her little pearl faster and faster until Naomi thought she might explode with delight.

Nothing in Naomi’s adolescence had given her a single clue about how powerful a climax could be when your lover was determined to make it so. She spasmed over and over again, twisting her torso and bucking her hips uncontrollably. Her mouth was open in a silent scream, unable even to breathe while the intense pleasure drove her higher and higher.

When finally she could take no more, she reluctantly pushed Emi away, looking down with stunned eyes at the small girl who had surely taken her straight to heaven? The gods themselves surely cannot have experienced anything more divine. The slickness on Emi’s lips would once have disgusted her, but she found herself eagerly accepting the long kiss Emi gave her in thanks. The taste of her own excitement only added to the thrill of what her new lover had done for her.

Afterwards of course, she was eager to see if she could have the same effect on Emilia. She wasn’t brave enough...for that first hour anyway...to fully reciprocate. But her own fingers found Emi wet and eager for her to explore. Just a little guidance was needed to send her lover into blissful joy. Naomi watched with hooded eyes, aroused to distraction already despite her recent climax as Emi thrashed and moaned while she stroked her relentlessly. Her lover was more vocal in her appreciation of Naomi’s efforts than she had been, but it only added to her triumphant delight when she felt the small brunette’s body arch and her sex clutch around her fingers as she moaned helplessly into Naomi’s mouth.

They explored everything Emi had learned that week with her cousin, and some others beside.

“What kind of monster have I awoken?” Emi giggled wearily as Naomi begged her an hour later, for the opportunity to taste her all over again. As addicted as the opium beggars in the market...that’s what she was. Totally addicted to the sight, sound and taste of her sweet Emilia.

So this morning, as the breeze wafted over their naked bodies, the door secured against servants and visitors alike, Naomi locked fingers with a stirring Emi and stared up at the ornate ceiling. Surely bliss such as this was more than any human had a right to expect?

That night, as Naomi and Emi prepared for another night of mutual exploration, Kati silently folded clothes for the next day and tried hard to be happy for her sister. She hadn’t expected to see much of her mistress or twin yesterday, but it seemed the passion had not yet been exhausted. Meals went uneaten and servants, even her, sent away. She wondered sadly if this sort of all consuming love was possible for her too one day. With a small sigh, she prepared for her own lonely bed. 

XXX

In the Viziers quarters, Fatima would have happily swapped with Kati. Exhausted from her exertions, she scrabbled on the floor for the few items of clothing she could find in the darkness. The Nubian girl had already left the room, suppressing her pain with difficulty. The Viziers visitor had been a rich Arab merchant, supplying her master with exotic spices and silks from distant China. He was as ruthless and indifferent to suffering as her own ruler. After watching Fatima and the Nubian give an extended performance of sapphic love on the piled up rugs before the bed, both men had taken their pleasure in any way they wished. At least Fatima had only to endure a few minutes astride the sweating Vizier...the rumours about his short fuse when aroused had been accurate. Luckily, even though the dark girl had been reluctant at first, Fatima’s skills had relaxed her enough to make a passable show of enjoying the sex. Not enough to satisfy the Egyptian girl, but enough to lubricate her sufficiently to endure the subsequent penetration. Once the Vizier had grunted his release into her, she was allowed to detach herself from him and throw a silk coverlet over his swelling belly and deflating organ. The other girl had been less fortunate. Excited by the sapphic show, the Arab had insisted on taking the dark girl in the popo… Unused to this, the girl had barely avoided screaming in pain at this unwelcome intrusion.

But he, like the Vizier, had been stimulated enough to be brief. Once, then twice he jerked hard into the unwilling girl, then slapped her away and rolled onto his side, sated.

Once the Nubian had departed, it was time for Fatima to leave too. She silently collected her things and slipped away. Tomorrow was another day and perhaps she could overhear something to her advantage. Surely the princess and her new toy would tire of the novelty soon?

XXX

But unknown to any of the occupants of the Topkapi Palace, events outside the control of even the Sultan himself were about to take centre stage. The best laid plans of many were about to be dramatically altered…

In the kitchens below the servants quarters...something was glowing faintly…


	7. Seven

As Emi. Kati, Naomi and her mother slept in their private quarters, things were about to happen which would alter plans, devastate lives and change events in Constantinople for an entire generation. 

In the long, vaulted kitchen down in the second courtyard of the Topkapi Palace, a young slave boy, careless from exhaustion after working for the entire day fetching hot water, carrying prepared dishes almost as big as him to the serving hall above and running errands for the sweating, cursing cooks, forgot his primary task for the evening. The banquet in the Royal apartments had been a lavish affair. Hundreds of meat, fruit and exotic sweetmeat dishes had been ferried up corridors stairs and across grand chambers filled with splendidly dressed guests. A visiting European prince, eager to make political gain, had paid court to another of Selim’s pretty daughters. His entourage numbered dozens and all had to be fed according to rank. It was long past midnight before the weary and footsore servants finally cleared the detritus of three hundred meals away and were able to scurry back to the lower courtyard to rest.

Ahmed was this slave...this careless, doomed slave. He stacked endless oval metal dishes in the vast sinks to soak overnight and dutifully piled up dirty table cloths for the laundry slaves to collect at dawn. But the task he had been ordered never to forget, he missed. One simple task...to thoroughly dampen the embers under the great stove. 

His own master the chief cook, had retired an hour since. Once the food was cooked and served, his work was done until tomorrow. He slept soundly in a side room a few yards from the vast kitchen, safe in the knowledge that his orders would be carried out to the letter, as they had been for more than two years. His assistant was a good servant, as Egyptians go. Willing and eager to please...in fact, in the past month, he could not recall having to inflict a single beating with his heavy ladle. 

Praise indeed.

But tonight, exhaustion and complacency were Ahmed’s enemies. Lethal enemies as it would prove.

Across the aisle from the great stove, a tall pile of discarded napkins lay unattended. Usually they would be stacked neatly on a shelf, ready for the bleary eyed laundry servants to collect in the morning and take to the steaming wash house in the lowest courtyard. But another slave, as tired and bored as Ahmed, decided that this was as good a place as any to leave them. His feet hurt and his arms ached from fetching and carrying all evening...why should he do the laundry servants work for them too...a few more yards to walk would not hurt them…?

As with any catastrophic event, it is not a huge issue which precipitates it. No...it is normally something small...insignificant even.

As insignificant as a glowing coal, reduced to marble size after burning brightly for hours. A coal which rolled, slowly at first from the settling pile of red glowing wood embers on the open fire. As it hit the polished wood floor, it rolled quicker...and within two feet... gently came to rest against the pile of napkins. Nothing happened immediately. As Ahmed sank gratefully onto his straw pallet next door, kicking off his sandals and tossing his sweaty turban to one side, the coal began its work. Just a wisp of whitish smoke at first...a thin line curling and twisting upwards in the silent darkness. Then the pile of cloth began to smoulder. At the bottom, a napkin soaked and then dried in a spilled exotic spirit made from grape juice specially imported from the Roman port of Avlona in Albania, as a gift to the Sultan, was the first to ignite properly. Fuelled by the residual alcohol, the napkin burst into instant flame. Around it other less flammable, but equally vulnerable napkins charred, then caught. In seconds, as Ahmed and his master snored unknowingly, the pile began to flicker then burn. Above the napkins, a thick wooden counter 20 feet long stood as it had done for a hundred years. Made from a single mighty plank of dark hardwood, it had endured a thousand knife cuts, a million pounding fists as dough was shaped on one end it and meat butchered the other. But the heat from the napkins was not so easily resisted. Gradually under the counter, a circle of black widened. Then a glow...then a single yellow flame.

Five minutes later, the whole counter was ablaze. The wood, several inches thick and suffused by gallons of cooking oils from years of use, was a natural fire magnet. But no one had even thought it possible that something like this could happen. 

Five more minutes and the licking flames had travelled sideways and upwards. A rack containing oils and spices was next to feel the lash of the fire. Then the roof beams were showered by a thousand spitting sparks as storage jars exploded. Like the counter, the beams had been there for centuries, dry and tindery...and like the counter, they submitted far too easily to the growing inferno below.

The first man to wake was the chief cook. Under his door there was already a baleful reddish glow. Then tendrils of thick, oily smoke began to drift lazily across the floor of his sleeping quarters. Enough to tickle his nose. His luxuriant moustache twitched as the acrid smoke crept stealthily into his nostrils. Suddenly shockingly awake, he leapt to his feet and ran in a panic to the doorway.

Which is where he died.

As the door crashed open, a wall of flames, craving the fresh oxygen in his room, engulfed him from head to foot instantly. He had time for one shout of disbelief before intense heat and cruel flames roasted his lungs and blistered his body. He collapsed dying, as the heat rushed into his room to greedily claim more things to burn.

Ahmed too was an early victim. Not for him a private room...instead he shared with two other kitchen slaves, but they died too as the smoke not the flames, stealthily suffocated them as they slept.

Ten more incinerated victims were found the next morning when the flames were finally extinguished, but there was much more mischief the fire could do before dawn. A few minutes after the cook and his slaves were roasted or suffocated, the entire kitchen was fully engulfed in vicious, roaring heat. Then the building next door, and soon the one after that. By the time the sleeping guard house was aware of the impending catastrophe, there was little anyone could do apart from evacuate a few lucky survivors. Any water available to fight the flames would be impotent against so great a conflagration. The Palace was ablaze...and everyone was in peril now.

XXX

 

An hour before the first spark ignited, Naomi had been hosting her own incendiary event. Emi had been a very diligent teacher over the past day or so and Naomi was as good a pupil as ever attended a lesson. Her libido now fully woken, she was hungry for everything Emi could show her. But soon even that wasn’t enough...Naomi was madly in love with Emilia and there didn’t seem to be enough hours in the day for her to demonstrate that love. The books she had taken from her fathers library were pulled out of her private cabinet and laid on the silken bed sheets to be absorbed by both sets of amazed eyes. Some of the positions were just silly and others seemingly anatomically impossible, but they tried a few, with mixed results.

Then Emilia turned one beautifully illustrated page and stopped dead. Naomi, naked as her lover, craned her neck over Emi’s shoulder to see what she was looking at.

“This one...” Emilia said in a whisper, “...I want to do this one with you my sweet?”

Naomi chuckled and kissed the side of Emi’s neck, making her lover shiver, even though they had both been fully satisfied not half an hour earlier.

“Why that one my angel…?” she asked. The position was not particularly exotic or unusual...she couldn’t see quite what fascinated Emi, but she was never going to refuse her anything. Then Emi got off the bed abruptly and walked to the other side of the bed chamber. A tall mirror, embossed on all edges with gold leaf, stood in a frame. Tall enough to see yourself from head to feet...a dressing mirror, imported from Venice her mother had said when it arrived. It stood inside a similarly ornate gold frame on small metal castors.

Naomi watched with amusement as Emi struggled with the heavy piece, eventually getting off the bed and helping her. The two girls pulled the mirror to the foot of the bed, Emi fussing with its position until she was finally content.

“There...” she said in satisfaction, looking up at Naomi and grinning “...perfect”

“Perfect for what, my love...I saw no mirror in the book, just two girls, one standing behind the other...what…?”

Emilia grinned again and kissed Naomi soundly on the lips before bouncing onto the bed and beckoning to her.

“Here my love...you kneel here in front of me...and I’ll just...”

Naomi did as she was asked and knelt on the soft bed, facing the mirror, Emilia placed two cushions behind her princess and got onto them, so that her face was visible over the taller girls shoulder. Their faces stared at their reflection in the perfect surface of the mirror. Naomi was still puzzled...what purpose did the mirror serve...surely they had seen each other naked for most of the past two days?

Emi kissed her neck, then nibbled at her ear suggestively.

“Now, my beautiful girl...I can play with you...and watch you when you umm….and so can you?”

Naomi flushed as she looked at herself in the long mirror and understanding dawned on her. They had explored each other voraciously for days, but now she realised that she had never actually seen herself in the throes of passion...suddenly she was embarrassed.

“Emi...no...what, I mean why would I want to see myself…?” she found it hard to say the words, even though she knew the deed itself was intensely pleasurable. 

“Because I want to share that perfect moment with you, my beautiful girl...we can both watch...like a sort of magic show...and if you’re good...and make me happy too...I’ll be sure to change places with you afterwards...wouldn’t you like to watch me pleasure myself for you?”

Naomi decided there and then that she definitely did want to see her lover in that way. But first she had to give something. The nervousness made her blush again.

“Could you...I mean would you touch me...before I...at first, at least Emi...I’m suddenly shy?”

The deep chuckle in her ear made her knees go weak and she swayed slightly as Emi pressed her small breasts onto her back. The nipples were already hard and excited. Naomi shuddered at how daring she would have to be now…

So with Emi helping her, reaching round to cup and knead her breasts and laying wet kisses up and down her neck, the show began. Naomi was shy...even after everything they had done together...but when Emi pressed Naomi’s hand between her own legs, she obediently began to tease and probe herself. The sharp gasp from Emi as Naomi surrendered made her pant too...suddenly it wasn’t so hard to do any more. Her thighs parted as Emi used her hands all over Naomi’s body, both sets of eyes stared intensely at the erotic tableau in the mirror. 

Naomi moaned deep in her throat as Emi whispered encouragement into her ear. Such a sweet, innocent face...but such a filthy mind she thought, before her own fingers lost their reluctance completely and began to rub and circle forcefully. She was as fascinated now as her lover at the image in front of her and soon forgot her reluctance to do this most personal activity for an audience.

By the time Emi slid a cool hand down her back, cupping her behind with a covetous palm, Naomi was undulating her hips and her fingers were fast and uncoordinated. She was close now...so close.

“I love you my princess” Emilia breathed into her ear as the sensations began to crest inside her lover. Then the hand that was cupping her so possessively moved quickly. As she started to convulse, mouth open and eyes still on her own image, a sly finger penetrated her from behind and massaged inside her sex deliberately.

“Ahhh...ohhh...Emi...I’m….” Naomi cried out, unable to resist her orgasm another second. She jerked forwards and back violently, craving that probing finger as much as her own. Again and again she spasmed, unable to stop the rolling waves of pleasure shaking her. Finally she sagged backwards, chest heaving and at last able to look away from the picture show she had been a central part of.

“Emi...you just have to do this...” she panted “...its...its..”

Emi grinned

“My princess...I know...I was there...I was right there...” she giggled.

It was the work of seconds to reverse their positions. Naomi tossed the cushions aside...she was tall enough to see over her lover shoulders without them. Unlike her, Emi was excited enough already after seeing Naomi lose control. Without promoting, she parted her thighs slightly and began to play…

Amazingly to her, Naomi found her lovers lack of inhibition released something primal inside her too. Remembering Emi’s whispered encouragement, she searched her mind for anything that would increase the girls excitement. Then she remembered a passage in an erotic book she had read one winters night under the blankets of her bed by glow-light. She knew that the words would mean nothing to Emi...who’s education began and ended with mathematics and basic grammar. But Naomi had a skill with languages...and she thought French was perfect for this moment.

Cupping one of Emilia’s soft breasts in one hand and resting the other on her stomach, just above the dark eyed girls busy fingers, she began to whisper a passage from the book she recalled goggling at.

Emilia’s eyes widened as Naomi used the richness of erotic French literature to arouse her further. She truly had no idea what was being said, just that the way it was being whispered to her spoke of swirling passion and dark desire. She’d been already half way to climax when they swapped roles, so this additional ingredient made her moan and gasp over and over.

Her moan briefly turned to disappointment when Naomi released her body and pulled back from her, but it quickly disappeared when, with a rustle of movement and a bounce of the bed, she found her princess burrowing, face up underneath her. Emi’s eyes flicked desperately from the looking glass image down to the flushed face and tousled hair of her lover. The first lap of that newly educated tongue on her folds undid her completely. Abandoning the exotic theatre of the mirror, she clutched at the blonde head below her and allowed Naomi to tip her straight over the edge. Never had she imagined she would be in this position, her princess...her mistress in the ultimate submissive role. Her orgasm was long and hard as she knelt above Naomi’s busy tongue...and loud enough to wake a grumpy Katerina in the next room. 

Her twin groaned in frustration as she recognised all too well the hoarse shout next door...as if it wasn’t bad enough knowing her sister was enjoying all the pleasures a willing girl could offer while Kati was forced into occasional solitary pleasure, she thought it utterly unfair that she should be forced to actually listen to them making love. She pulled a large silk cushion from the floor and pushed it down hard over her ears…grumbling savagely.

XXX

It was in this position that Tomas found her an hour later. Roused by the noise outside his quarters and the hum of excited voices, he was quick to understand the danger. Fire...that most implacable and indiscriminate of enemies. His first thought as always, was Gia his mistress. Stopping only to put on loose pantaloons and a waistcoat top, he rammed his feet into worn leather slippers and ignoring the concerned shouts and confusion around him, ran straight to the Sultana’s apartments. Gia was awake and already hammering on her daughters door. It was locked to her annoyance, and she instantly regretted being so relaxed about Naomi and Emilia’s ‘honeymoon’ period. The scent of smoke was bitter and acrid in the night air around the building. Through an open corridor window, she could see sparks and yellow flames shooting upwards from the compound below. Whatever had started this blaze, it had taken hold frighteningly quickly. It was hard to make out in the darkness what was being done to suppress the inferno, but with more and more smoke billowing up to envelope the Royal apartments, she knew time was of the essence. Again she hammered on the door, cursing herself for being so lenient with her daughter. Privacy was one thing, but death and destruction awaited anyone foolish enough to remain here. 

Tomas had not wasted any time, charging through Katerina’s door and scooping up the sleeping girl, cushion and all. He hurtled into the corridor where Gia was still beating on the unresponsive door and dropped a shocked Katerina onto her feet by the Sultana.

“Here my lady...you take Kati and leave through the rear doors, I passed them on the way in and they were open to the gardens. It will be safe there for the moment?”

Gia stared at him in shock.

“B...but Naomi….and...”

“Emi!” Katerina shouted in alarm, “...my sister and the mistress...get them out Tomas...please?”

The Nubian nodded and waved at Gia and Kati to make way. The door may have been sturdy and the occupants unconscious, but he would move heaven and earth to save them.

A short run up, then a huge, muscle bound shoulder crashed into the door, splintering the frame and sending it crashing back on its hinges. Tomas ran through the doorway and saw the girls entwined on the bed by the window. Thin clouds of sour smelling smoke was already creeping across their bodies. For a second, the eunuch thought he was too late. They looked like sweet angels, naked and wrapped in each others arms. But as he ran to the bed, he saw with relief that both girls were breathing. Without ceremony, he grabbed two sheets from the cabinet next to them and pulled the sleeping beauties, naked and barely stirring, to their feet. Shocked faces looked up at him but there was little time for explanations.

He merely said “Fire” in a dark brown voice and held out the sheets in each hand. Naomi blinked in confusion and tried to argue...she was naked...people might see?

“Tomas...my clothes?” she begged, tugging at Emi’s hand.

“No time!” he shouted “...no time my princess...the fire may be almost upon us. Your mother and Katerina are safe...but we need to leave now”

Again he held out the sheets. Emilia came to her senses first, talking one from him and wrapping it round herself like a Roman toga...then she grabbed the other one and threw it round a still stunned Naomi. Emi cupped her lovers face in two hands and tried to make her realise the danger.

“Naomi...my love...we have to go...now...come on?”

With Tomas behind them, shepherding them like two lost lambs, they were soon in the corridor and through the open doors into the large grassy compound behind the Royal apartments. In the centuries since the palace had been built, many secret corridors and escape routes had been built into its fabric. No one alive was as well versed as Tomas in their exact location. He’d made it his business in the years that followed Cuk’s brutalisation and his emasculation, to learn everything he could about this vast complex. If the flames or smoke threatened to overwhelm them, he would lead them to safety. Grabbing from the corridor wall a 3 foot metal torch containing some unlit fuel and still heavy enough to be used as a weapon or battering ram if needed, Tomas marched them to the other side of the walled garden, There was a small door well concealed inside creeping ivy there. He had hoped and still did, not to have to use it yet. The Sultana’s plans for her daughter would make use of this unknown exit soon enough...so the less others knew of it now the better. But if necessary, he would sacrifice this small piece of knowledge to save his charges lives. His priorities may be altered lately, adding Emilia and Katerina to his list of responsibilities, but the end result was the same. The safety and security of Gia and her family….which now included the sisters.

XXX

Down in the main courtyard, with messengers advising him already of the safety of the royal family, the Grand Vizier was taking charge. Unlike the majority of the staff, running here and there with useless pails of water, his ability to see a problem and then the solution to it came to the fore. He instructed a dozen servants to go to the Royal apartments, after finding the captain of the guard, then secure the area. The Sultan and his wives and concubines, plus the body servants were to be led to safety below, via a winding brick back stair that the fire had not reached. The Imperial Guard major from the barracks had formed up twenty of his best men. They would second a suitable building out of harms way, ensure the security of the royal party and man the perimeter. That done, the Vizier called for a hundred volunteers from the citizens inhabiting the lower reaches of the palace. Not to put out the fire as they expected, but to build fire breaks from earth and bricks instead...the kitchens and lower living quarters were unsaveable, it was time to protect the most important ones...the treasury, the barracks and if possible the fourth courtyard buildings. As yet it was only smoke that had penetrated that level. Water was to be used to douse the upper buildings only, to stop the sparks and embers catching woodwork. All curtains and silks were to be ripped down and stored away from the direction of the wind. 

That done, he spent the next hour ensuring his instructions were carried out in full.

XXX

Dawn brought relief to the palace. The still smouldering remains of the kitchens and three other less important buildings were still being damped down, but the fire had not spread any further. Now that the flames had been all but extinguished, the smoke damage was less severe than he had feared. In a small antechamber off the barracks, the Vizier met his master for the first time since the alarm was raised hours before. Around the great man were grouped his favoured wives, a couple of particularly beautiful concubines and his daughters and sons. Naomi, Emi and Kati were huddled together, still wrapped in the sheets Tomas had given them. No one had had time to fetch new clothing, but no one thought that was important right now.

Selim called the Vizier to his side. Normally his conversations with this, his closest advisor and most senior minister were carried out in strict privacy. But the shock of last night had made them all forget protocol. As Selim thanked his minister for taking charge of the fire fighting and security of his family, Gia and the girls huddled close to the Sultan, shivering slightly in the cool dawn air.

“Truly Kamal...you have proven yourself a worthy holder of your office today. The palace is safe and my family are with me. I am sure they are as grateful as I am at your prompt and effective governance of the rescue work. I am in your debt Vizier...tell me... what can I do to show our gratitude...a new province to rule maybe...some fine Persian jewellery? Or maybe some exotic additions to your harem? Name your gift, my friend...”

Tomas was close by his mistress as the Sultan spoke and he stiffened at the casual way Selim had offered the Vizier his pick of gifts. Something about the gleam in the old mans eyes told him this was not likely to be a pleasant choice. No one knew who had entrapped Cuk, but he had caught the Vizier watching him with a curious eye several times recently. The portly prime minister was as cunning as a fox….

“Master...you think too highly of me. I merely did what a good servant would do for his Lord. I have quite enough land and fineries...Your highness has been very generous to me many times in the past...so, no there is nothing I desire...”

He bowed deeply...or as deeply as his considerable girth would allow, then leaned closer to Selim.

“But perhaps my lord….?”

His mouth got closer to the Sultan’s ear and his voice dropped to a whisper. Tomas exchange a look with his mistress which spoke of his mounting alarm. But there was nothing he could do. The Vizier was in the most powerful position possible right now...whatever he asked, the Pasha would undoubtedly grant.

Selim’s eyes widened as the Vizier moved back. For a second his face clouded as if to refuse..but he had promised and he was a man of his word.

“Very well Kamal...I agree. Wife?...You have surely had sufficient time to educate your daughter by now. The Vizier has pressed his suit once again and I see no reason to deny him this time. The wedding will be announced on the full moon, in ten days time...prepare Naomi for the nuptials accordingly. She is to be the Viziers new first wife.

Tomas tensed as if to spring at the Vizier...an act which would have resulted in his immediate and painful death. But his mistress hissed one short word in his ear and with reluctance, he held himself in check. Naomi however, was not to be restrained with a word. Her horrified face told its own story...Dropping to her knees, she began to sob...crawling towards her father like a beggar in the dust. Emilia was frozen to the spot as the words she had just heard sunk in. 

They couldn’t...they just couldn’t...could they?

It seemed not only could they...they most definitely would. Within a few short days, her beautiful princess Naomi, her lover... was to be sacrificed on the disgusting Viziers bed...her virginity taken like a mongrel bitch then used nightly for his corrupted pleasures. Now tears came to her eyes too…


	8. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi again. Just some historical notes for anyone who is vaguely interested. Selim II was indeed an Ottoman Sultan, son of Suleiman the Magnificent. He was known as Selim the Fair because unusually for the time, he was blonde. As is Gia, my fictitious Sultana. Hence the blue eyed, beautiful and fair Naomi, product of their enforced union. Selim did have a Grand Vizier, who was as powerful and manipulative as I have described him. No sign of an actual Cuk (Cook) in the Topkapi Palace, although ruthless royal enforcers were common currency for top officials. There was a fire in 1574 which destroyed a good portion of the palace, so again...historically accurate(ish). The Skins characters as they appear are obviously my/our own little darlings.
> 
> Another major event took place in Constantinople that year...but now I’m getting ahead of myself. My little flight of fancy gets even more AU after that incident. But then you probably guessed that would happen if you’ve followed me so far! So...stormy waters ahead...so far, so predictable for the world of Naomily.

Kamal could not suppress a triumphant grin as he waddled back to his temporary apartments in the third compound, courtiers scampering behind. He had arranged for this whole building to be requisitioned and cleared, then made ready to receive the immediate Royal family and his own, smaller entourage. That meant he would be in even closer day to day contact with Selim and just as importantly, the Viziers new bride to be. Earlier, both he and the Sultan had studiously ignored the tears of the girl and her desolate pleas for Selim to reconsider his decision. It was of no consequence anyway. Many a bride went reluctantly to the grooms bedchamber on the first night. They always left as the confirmed property of their husband, the bloodied sheets displayed from the windows as evidence of his possession of the one thing a woman could never give twice...her virginity.

His heart was coldly hard to her suffering and now, given her pitiful display of dismay at her fathers announcement, more determined than ever to have her. A week of being forcibly mounted every night and she would learn how to submit to him meekly in future. That proud face and haughty bearing would crumble easily enough. He decided there and then to seek the help of the palace physician in this matter, probably on the day of the nuptials. There was reputedly a potion available, said to increase a mans ardour ten fold and ensure a prodigious erection which would last for several hours at a time. He grinned again at the thought of the pale limbed Naomi enduring those long hours naked and gasping underneath him. In the past, when he’d been younger and more vigorous, he was called ‘The Goat’ by some of the braver members of his harem... behind their hands, of course. Testament to his tendency to mount a favoured concubine perhaps half a dozen times in a single night. Many a girl had left his chambers staggering with exhaustion and aching so much she sobbed in pain. Yes...he would definitely seek the physicians assistance. The girl must pay for her public show of disapproval with total submission.

He had watched Tomas the eunuch carefully too as the Sultan made his marriage proclamation. It almost seemed at one point that the Sultana’s slave was on the verge of attacking the Vizier physically. It was as well he had alerted the captain of the guard to be specially watchful for any hint of insurrection after the fire. Kamal had not been specific about any concern for his own safety, but the guards around the Royal family and himself were very alert and keen to discover the slightest hint of a plot. Best his spies keep keen eyes on the ultra loyal eunuch until the marriage was consummated. Once he had taken possession of the princess of course, things would settle down quickly. No one would try to deprive a husband of his lawful property. People would go back to whispering about him in corridors, but open defiance would be out of the question. 

Cuffing a small slave boy carrying a water jug as big as him out of his way, the Vizier walked into his new chambers and called for meat and wine. Maybe a small celebration was in order?

XXX

On the other side of the building, in far less salubrious surroundings than they were used to, the Princess and her mother sat on a patched low couch together, the younger girl weeping bitterly as Gia tried unsuccessfully to comfort her.

“I...I can’t mama...he’s so...ugly...and coarse and fat and….oh…what about my darling Emi?”

Naomi dissolved into a fresh outburst of sobbing. Her mother held her tight and stared out of the window at the scurrying servants and builders already at work repairing and rebuilding the kitchens. Above them in the fourth compound, there was no actual fire damage, but black and toxic smoke had wreaked havoc with the walls and fine furnishings. It would be weeks, maybe months before it was habitable again. Gia felt tears come to her eyes too as she understood that Naomi might already be sacrificed to the odious Vizier by then. She’d promised her lovely daughter that the manipulative politicians hands would never touch that pale skin. But the promise and the plans that surrounded it were lying in ruins now too. She would now have only 9 more days to make another plan and to carry it out in suddenly unfamiliar surroundings. She would need Tomas even more now. Thank heavens he had exercised restraint when the Sultan gave into the sly cunning of the Vizier. Her single word and gentle hand on his arm had instantly stopped his instinctive move towards Kamal. She could ill afford to lose her best ally so soon. With Cuk out of the way, one obstacle had been decisively removed, but the Vizier was a wily operator, as he had just so ably demonstrated. She needed to think clearly...which was difficult with an inconsolable Naomi in her arms. Next door, in the room Emilia and Katerina would need to share now, she could hear more crying. Poor Emi…

XXX

“Sister...Emi my love...you’ll make yourself sick crying so much. Naomi will need you more than ever when her mother leaves. Come now...try to look on the bright side…?”

Kati knew as soon as the words left her mouth that it was a thoroughly stupid thing to say. Emilia looked up in shock, eyes full of tears and stared at her reproachfully.

“Bright side...what bright side?” she choked, rubbing her already red rimmed eyes fiercely. “my beautiful love...our princess, is to be given to that old goat to use and ruin in nine more days Kati...nine days? She’s the love of my life...if I lose her...I’ll...I’ll throw myself off the palace walls. I can’t be without her...not now”

Katerina winced. She hardly knew what to say without making things worse. Her sister was beyond besotted with the Princess and it had been quite bad enough already, knowing that inside 6 moons the Vizier or someone else would claim the beautiful princess as a bride...but today the timetable had moved forward dramatically. Kati had harboured a secret hope that after a few more moons, the princess and Emi would begin to tire of each other. Naomi could then be married off without too much drama and Emi...well, she was a least as pretty as her older twin...so even if she still preferred a woman’s touch...there would be opportunities after the palace to carry on a secret relationship if she was careful. It wasn’t officially approved of, but mostly the authorities turned a blind eye if you were discreet. Kati had always viewed this employment as temporary after all. Six moons at most, then she could return to her home with the prestige of having worked for the Sultana herself. There were a number of employers in the city who would be happy to have someone like her on their books. Then she could take her pick of the anxious suitors who would flock to her father to beg for her hand. 

But this wasn’t something she had bargained for. Emi was truly heartbroken, the princess too by the sounds of it. Threatening to end her life on the cobbles below the palace wasn’t something Kati could ever contemplate happening to her gentle twin. Something would have to be done...but what?

“I’m so sorry Emi...that was a stupid thing to say...but so is threatening to kill yourself? Naomi needs you more than ever right now. Go to her...show her that your love is the one thing she can rely on... for the time you have left together…?”

It was poor fare as comfort, but the best Kati could do under the circumstances. She could hardly promise to thwart the Viziers plans. The simple fact was that if the fat toad wanted Naomi this badly and the Sultan had said yes...it was done. Naomi would become his wife in nine more days and Emilia would have to bear the grief. There wasn’t even the smallest morsel of comfort, even that Kamal would retain Emi as a body servant to Naomi. Katerina had seen the looks the Vizier had given her sister. He knew that the two were lovers. No husband would be willingly cuckolded by a servant under his own roof. No...sadly Emi would lose her beautiful princess forever, then the twins would both be returned to the city and their parents. 

Hopefully intact.

It was harsh, but inevitable.

Just then the door opened between the two apartments. Katerina straightened as the Sultana came out and looked down at a still weeping Emi. Her blue eyes were soft and concerned.

“Emilia...my sweet. I know you’re upset, but your princess needs you. Dry your tears...go and comfort her. You will be good for each other?”

Emilia swallowed the sob which threatened to emerge from her mouth and nodded numbly. She was truly devastated, but the Sultana was right...Naomi needed her and time was already ticking inexorably. She stood up, brushed her eyes with the back of both hands and attempted a weak smile. Gia exchanged a sympathetic look with Kati and swept past, her expression changing to grim determination once she was out of the room. The Vizier appeared to hold an unbeatable winning hand, but he was sadly mistaken if the ugly walrus imagined she was done with him yet. There was no need for the twins or Naomi to know just how far she might go to protect them, but she needed Tomas and his shadowy agents help more than ever now. With just nine days left, time was indeed short.

XXX

Emilia took one look at Naomi as she leaned on the arm of the long couch, staring out of the window and had to stop just inside the door. She looked stunning, even with reddened eyes and face still stained with tears. The movement caught Naomi’s eye and she turned quickly to face the door.

“Oh Emi...my love...what are we going to do?...I cannot lose you now...I can’t marry that man...I just can’t…?”

Her face crumpled again and there was nothing for Emilia to do but go to her, wrapping her in loving arms. Naomi’s tears started hers off again and it was a pale faced Kati who silently closed the door to give them some privacy. Heaven knows they had little enough time left together..she would fetch spring water and sweet fruit in case they could force something down later . Sadness seemed to hang over them like the pall of smoke over the courtyard below...the whole palace appeared to be cloaked in dull mourning dress today.

XXX

Tomas strode a corridor unused by most palace occupants to obey his mistresses command to attend her. The hand written, many times folded note was delivered by a trusted slave, well treated by Tomas over the years and loyal to the muscular Nubian and no other. The tall black mans face was set and grim. Gia did not need to tell him how perilous the situation was now. Unless drastic action was taken, the Vizier would have his way and Naomi would be ruined forever. Neither Tomas or Gia could countenance that...but how to prevent it?

XXX

“Tomas...this scheme of ours is all undone. The fire has wrecked the original plan. What is to be saved?”

Gia paced up and down the room nervously, biting her lip in a gesture Emi would have instantly recognised. Like her daughter, she unconsciously adopted this tic when when she was uneasy or over stimulated. 

“I have another idea my lady?” Tomas said quietly...”...something which is not only dangerous for us...but for anyone in the vicinity...a last resort as it were...do you wish to hear it, my Queen?”

Gia stopped pacing and faced the tall man. He had been by her side from the day Cuk had released him to her as a wide eyed youth, bloodied, unmanned and she had no reason to doubt his complete sincerity. But by the look in his eyes, it was definitely something he had probably hoped not to have to suggest.

“Go on Tomas...I think we’re past half measures now. If it comes to it, I will try anything. Anything... even that thing we discussed three moons ago? That is for the very last desperate hour though. Something I do not wish to contemplate at the moment?”

He nodded gravely. When Gia had told him of her crazed final plan if the Vizier broke down every barrier to the marriage, he had argued passionately against it. Not because he valued his own life ...after all, his existence relied totally on this noble woman who had been his benefactor, and protector as much as he had been hers over the years. His death was of no real consequence to him as he believed his God would await him in paradise with open arms. But her life and her lovely daughters was not to be bargained or toyed with.

“Let us not talk of that dreadful thing my lady” he said in a dark velvet voice “...there are yet nine days until all is lost. This plan of mine is very dangerous, but if it works, you and the princess will be free of Kamal the adulterer for ever?”

“Go on” she said carefully “but let us move this conversation into the library...there are several concealed aisles in there...and it is quiet...quiet enough for us to hear anyone approaching,...this building is built from curious ears?”

It was quite normal for Gia to visit the huge library with just her eunuch in attendance to carry back books. There was a large section on Greek history she liked to peruse at leisure. Illustrated texts about her own island as well as the other scattered warm and verdant places dotting the seas of her birth. At first, the sight of an artists impression of her beloved Lesbos would reduce her to self pitying tears, but over the years it became easier and she even involved Naomi as she grew older in her daily visits.

They walked there without speaking, Tomas the regulation one pace behind his mistress. Close enough to cut down any potential assassin in one slash of his cutlass if required.

When they arrived, it was obvious by the hushed silence that they were alone in the vast room, but Tomas took no chances, leaving Gia in the Greek section while he quickly but carefully scanned every other aisle and corner. Satisfied, he joined her in a narrow gap between two high sets of mahogany shelving stacked with leather bound tomes, ancient and modern. The books would muffle their conversation from any potential listener. But as an added precaution, the eunuch pushed a squeaky wooden trolley full of unsorted newly arrived books into the gap at the end. They were twenty feet further down the aisle, too far for any eavesdropper to hear them. Nevertheless, they spoke in whispers and employed several hand signals as shorthand that the Sultana had taught Tomas as a boy. 

“Your plan then Tomas?” she said quietly, leaning closer so he could whisper the details in her ear. He talked for several minutes, Gia’s eyes widened and her breathing increasing rapidly as the sheer recklessness of the idea was outlined. Finally he sat back and waited for her response.

“Zeus and Hera save us...Tomas...are you mad? she gasped breathlessly “This...scheme... could end the whole court...not just the Vizier...and how do we turn this horror off after we have begun it?”

He shook his head.

“My lady, I have taken advice from a very good source...someone from my own country who works on the far side of the city. He has no reason to lie, or to love the Vizier, who had his mother killed because she would not submit to his lust years ago. He was but a boy when it happened, but his hatred for the prime minister is as deep as ours. He has seen this method of destruction used in Arabia...and he says it is speedy and has the advantage of being impossible to recover from once the symptoms have begun”

“But how...the Viziers food and drink is…?” She remembered how the cautious Vizier had not one, but three tasters in attendance at his table at all times. His meals were scrupulously tested by each of them before every course,

“ I know my lady...that would not be the way it would be carried out, his tasters are too effective. I have another plan to introduce the substance to him. But it is just as lethal?”

“And...stopping it, the spread... afterwards?” Gia said doubtfully. She had vaguely heard of this abomination from a visiting Bedouin’s wife years before, but had never encountered anyone who had actually used it.

“More difficult it is true, my Sultana...but with care and fore warning...it gives us...and more importantly the princess and her girls the time they will need to….”

“...to carry out the second part of the plan...the part that is still intact?” she finished for him.

Tomas nodded seriously.

“My lady...the plan is desperate and full of unknown obstacles at this stage, however I believe I can make it work. But for that to happen, you and the princess must do something you will both find distasteful. You must make your peace with Kamal...it is essential in the few days we have left for him to think you have now accepted the Sultans decision with a degree of grace. He is a very cunning and devious man...it will not be easy or pleasant for you or the princess, but if the plan is to work…?”

Tomas left the sentence hanging. In truth he knew many things could yet go wrong. Not least the possibility that Naomi was a much worse actress than her mother. The Vizier had to believe he had won utterly. It would be hard enough to get past his natural distrust, but if he still thought by the day of the wedding that Naomi was still horrified at the thought of marriage to him, there was no way Tomas or his agents would get through his defences. Luck would play a huge role in this shaky scheme.

Gia nodded in the end. Apart from the apocalyptic final act she and Tomas would use if all else failed, this at least had some degree of protection for her daughter. And now Emilia and Katerina too. Even if this worked, it was fraught and uncertain. But it was the best they had.

XXX

Emi and Naomi had cried themselves out by the time Gia had dismissed Tomas and left him to work out the practicalities of his scheme. When the Sultana got back to the apartments, she peeked into her daughters bedchamber and saw them on the bed, entwined and sleeping the sleep of the emotionally exhausted. But she had other matters to deal with while she waited for her daughter to wake. Time to involve the other twin in some of her dangerous scheming. She had a request for Katerina that the girl would probably find unpalatable, but it would be necessary if the plot was to succeed.

“Kati” she said quietly, closing the inner door “...I need to talk to you...lets take a walk in the gardens where we are less likely to be overheard?”

It was the first time Gia had spoken properly to Kati since the Viziers bombshell request, so the twin jumped up quickly from where she was sitting sewing a torn hem, and followed the Sultana from the apartment. Once they were under some fruit trees and away from prying eyes, Gia stopped.

“How much do you love your sister Kati?” she asked, knowing it was a rhetorical question, but she needed to be direct and this was one way of getting the girls immediate attention.

“More than anything my lady” Kati said earnestly. 

“Enough to do something for her...and for my daughter... that might not please you, could even put you in danger?”

Kati swallowed hard. She’d feared this as they walked through the freshly scythed grass. It wasn’t often that a Royal wife asked a favour. It had to be a big one.

“What is it you wish me to do highness?” she said warily. In truth, she would probably do anything to save her twin, but the feeling of dread that crept over her at the request made her heart flutter.

“You know the slave girl Fatima?” Gia said calmly “...you know she prefers, uh...female company at night?”

Katerina blinked at that. What the….

“Much like my sister and the princess...I believe the slave girl is very fond of female...company...highness?” she said carefully. It wasn’t clear where this was going, but she still had a growing feeling of unease. 

“Good” Gia said “...the idea of such affection disgusts you Kati?”

“N..no highness, not at all...I love my sister and the princess dearly and we born are what we are. No one is changed as a person because of who they love. Some girls prefer girls, some men...it is written for us by the gods?”

Gia smiled...maybe this would not be so hard after all…

“...and you Katerina...where do your preferences lie?”

Kati opened her mouth to give the response she had always used when asked. Because Emi was known to be fond of girls and they looked almost identical... she frequently had to make the firm point that looks were one thing, sexual orientation quite another. Her own preferences were certainly towards males….even if her few fumbling encounters with boys up till now had been a little...disappointing. Her parents were not naive enough to believe that their adolescent daughters were completely unaware of their sexuality...so long as the experimentation was confined to touching and a little kissing, they were unconcerned. Emi of course was safe...no boy was likely to persuade her to give away her most valuable asset. Kati’s mother had sat with the older twin though, and explained in basic terms what was permissible for a respectable daughter. So Katerina had enjoyed a few afternoons...exploring... with a couple of local youths over the past year. 

But the Sultana had a mission for her, that was clear. She weighed her answer carefully before speaking.

“Highness...I believe I am attracted to men... rather than women...but why do you ask?”

Gia smiled again, trying to put Kati at her ease. There was no way of sugar coating this...too much depended on them seizing every advantage in the few days left.

“I am going to ask you a big favour Kati...I am going to ask you to make a sacrifice for your sister. Something that may not be pleasant for you?”

Kati’s heart sank...surely her mistress was not asking her to sleep with some brawny guard, or even worse, the fat Vizier himself? She knew before the favour was asked that she would do it...if it meant saving Naomi or her sister from harm, but her stomach rolled at the prospect of losing her precious virginity to someone she loathed. She had always imagined a special and romantic wedding night, maybe bathing in rose water, then retiring to a comfortable and private bedroom to languorously give up her special gift to a handsome new husband…

“You know the slave girl...Fatima, isn’t it?”

Kati nodded...what did that cheeky little Egyptian have to do with this?

“She has the ear of the Vizier I understand. He rewards her for information about myself and the princess. But I also hear he uses her for...other things, occasionally...things she finds very distasteful. I believe she would be ripe for turning to our side Katerina...and if she can help us...we need her. But we have to offer her a good reason to do so. Am I right in saying that she was once eager to get to know your sister...really get to know her?”

Katerina’s mind spun and her heart thumped as the plot became clearer. The Sultana was not asking for Kati to lay with the Vizier or any man...but she was asking her to seduce the Egyptian girl. She remembered well enough the looks the girl had exchanged with her sister. They were unmistakeable. As was the crude aside she muttered as Kati told her sister to attend Naomi. 

“B...but mistress...I am not my sister. It is true the slave was once enamoured of Emi and if the princess had not sent for her that day, may have seduced her, but...but the girl has never shown any interest in me?”

Gia put her hand on Kati’s shoulder and nodded.

“That may be true Kati..but are you not an exquisitely beautiful creature yourself? I think that an impartial observer might offer the opinion that you are perhaps even more attractive than Emi….certainly your body is more voluptuous...more womanly…?”

Gia knew she was adding maybe a little too much sugar to the mix, but they had little time for subtleties. If Kati could pull this off, they would have eyes and ears inside the Viziers inner circle. 

Katerina blushed as the Sultana ran curious eyes over her body. She had always lorded it over her twin because her breasts were bigger, hips a little wider. Now those physical assets were being studied by a queen no less. It was unsettling to say the least.

But she knew the answer had to be yes. Unlike Emi, she had no experience in passion with a woman, but she was a woman herself after all? Pleasuring herself at night was deliciously addictive...surely she could put aside her natural instincts for a night or two...let the Egyptian girl have her way with her?

“I...I have no skills at pleasing a woman in that way my lady...but I would of course be happy to do whatever you wish if it helps?”

Gia smiled broadly. Her own experiences with girls back on her island as an adolescent had taught her that it was all too easy to succumb to a gentler touch in fact. If she hadn’t been snatched away by the slave traders, it was entirely possible she might have gone on to form a relationship with another woman, not a man. In her place of birth, it was relatively common. 

She spent the next few minutes explaining to a slightly shocked Kati what two girls might get up to if sharing a bed. Katerina had spent little time contemplating the difference between a male and female partner in the act of love. Her limited experience had taught her that boys needed to be guided a lot...and that even when they learned what pleased her, it was no guarantee of satisfaction. That along with their alarming tendency to make a mess of her skirt if she was too effective at returning the favour. But a girl? She vaguely imagined it involved a lot of kissing and maybe the sort of thing she did to herself alone at night when she was frustrated….but the Sultana’s long and detailed descriptions made her slightly queasy...really...with her tongue?

But Kati was always the stronger twin. As young children she was always the first up a tree, or to defend her sister against local bullies. No...if this was to be done, best she do it quickly. Fatima would almost certainly succumb if she offered herself. Without too much arrogance, she was perfectly well aware that her face and body drew admiring glances from both sexes. If she had to surrender to a night or two with Fatima, so be it.

XXX

Gia smiled to herself as Kati left the orchard. They had agreed a strategy and now the girl was committed she believed that it would work. But as time was so short, it would need to be carried out tonight. So she called her head of household and instructed her to fetch the young Egyptian to her. Being frozen out by Naomi had probably been a big disappointment to Fatima, maybe Gia could give her some good news. She made arrangements for the sleeping quarters to be changed. With Naomi now on pre wedding alert, it was normal for her mother to give up the largest room so that her daughter could be prepared. Emilia could nominally sleep on a pallet at the bottom of her mistresses bed (although Gia was under no illusions about exactly where the doe eyed girl would spend the nights) and the Sultana would take the twins current quarters. Which meant Kati would have to share with another servant. One particular servant. After that...it was up to the older twin to convince Fatima that she was less averse to female pleasure than she may have appeared up till now.

XXX

Naomi and Emilia were as happy as they could be under the circumstances at the move. Gia made them visit the grand ballroom, with its huge windows over the Bosphorus while simple alterations were made. A change of scenery was good for them both in any case. Although they looked wan and tired, she did not tell them anything about the new plans. Best they concentrate on each other for the time being. She had to have a difficult conversation with her daughter very soon about reconciling with the Vizier...so, one problem at a time?

When she called for Fatima, the slim girl was almost aglow with gratitude. Being excluded from the princesses inner circle had been hard for her. Now, even though she was aware of the love that had grown between Emi and Naomi, she was at least back in the Sultana’s good graces. Sharing a bedroom...and apparently a bed with the attractive but occasionally hostile Katerina might be a little uncomfortable at first, but she was pleasantly surprised when she moved her belongings into the luxurious apartments. Kati smiled at her warmly when they met again. Maybe this could be fun after all?

XXX

Five hours later, as she dropped onto her back on the shared bed with a look of stunned satisfaction on her face, she thought maybe the word fun had been a little mild…

Kati rolled away from the gasping Fatima and looked up at the ceiling. If there had been anyone judging her performance so far, she reasoned it would be a positive review. In truth it had not been anything like as much an ordeal as she’d feared. The girl had been ridiculously easy to seduce. Some easy chatter before bed...making sure Fatima got a number of good long looks at her gradually revealed lush body as she disrobed, then a casual comment or two about how lucky Emi was to have the lovely princess in her bed. In fact there were no sounds of passion from the other room tonight, both girls seemed to be in a mutual fugue, too distraught to even take comfort from each other in the way they had for several nights before. Which left Kati free to make her mock complaints about her frustration to an attentive Fatima.

Naked apart from the thin over sheet, Kati smirked as the Egyptian girl nervously offered to alleviate her little problem. The twin pretended to be unsure, telling Fatima that she had never lain with a girl before (true) and that it was her sister who preferred women, not her (also true). All of which made the slave girl even more anxious to show off her skills. Watching the nubile Kati take her clothes off and slowly slide into the shared bed had made Fatima bite her lip and squeeze her thighs together. She may have had plans for the other twin once, but she was not one to turn down an opportunity to make love to one so beautiful, even if she was a reluctant lover. Who knew how long it would be before the corpulent Vizier called for her to again submit to his disgusting demands. She shuddered silently at the memory of bouncing on that huge belly, pretending to enjoy his monotonous penetration...no, this was an opportunity to enjoy some real pleasure. Willing or not, if Kati wanted her frustration ended, Fatima was the one to provide that service.

And so Kati had laid back on the smooth under sheet and let Fatima make love to her. At first, she just allowed the girl to explore her slowly. Her breasts were always a sensitive area...but in the past, the two village boys she had permitted to take liberties with her had been clumsy and rough in this regard. But not this night...the Egyptian girl had all the dark hours to explore and she wanted to make this experience memorable. She was all too aware that even a girl with no natural attraction to other women was susceptible to a careful and delicate touch. Fingers cupped, kneaded and stroked before her tongue lapped and circled excited nipples. Kati groaned more than once as the other girl hovered over her, using feather touches and sly pressure to make her sigh. She did not attempt to kiss Kati...not yet...again her experience had taught her that this was a taboo some girls never got past. No...for now she let Kati’s growing excitement work for her. By the time the dark skinned girl shimmied down the bed, leaving small damp marks on the other girls skin as she kissed her belly, Katerina was already moaning softly. Duty this might be, but she was a healthy adolescent with no sexual outlet apart from her own fingers to relieve tension. The sinuous slave girl was using all her skills to excite her beyond endurance. At the first sly swipe of the girls tongue up and down her open petals, Kati abandoned pretence and gripped the girls thick black hair in both hands. No one of either sex had ever used their mouth on her before...so this was exquisitely pleasurable. She rolled her hips upwards, eager to feel it again. But Fatima played her like a precious instrument, softly caressing her inner thighs with gentle hands and using the lightest of feather touches with her lips to tease and arouse.

Minutes passed.

It was with a growl deep in her throat that Kati finally surrendered to her desire. She thought she might actually die of frustration if that teasing tongue did not work more aggressively on her burning centre. So, abandoning restraint she pushed the girls head towards her... hard. 

“Fatima...no more teasing, I beg you...do what I need...please?”

The Egyptian girl barely had time for a self satisfied smile before her mouth was otherwise occupied for some time. Her party trick was required sooner than she expected however. With Katerina on the verge of a climax within mere seconds, she used her prehensile tongue to drive inside the other girls clinging warmth. Again and again, she used the tongue like a supple finger, lapping up and sideways against the clutching walls of Kati’s blossoming flower. 

Now Kati lost all control. This was no longer an academic exercise...a chore, carried out to her Sultana’s instructions. The sensation of Fatima’s tongue driving into her, along with those soft lips caressing the twins pulsing little bud, was too much to bear. Pulling painfully at the other girls hair, she bucked and thrashed as an orgasm so powerful she thought at one point she might expire from it, surged through her body. Again and again she arched upwards, gritting her teeth to stop ecstatic cries echoing through the walls of the room. Finally, as Fatima gradually slowed her thrusts, lapping gently instead, Kati subsided onto the sheets below her. Exhausted, she had to try very hard to keep a goofy, surprised grin from her face. If this was sex with another woman, she might have to re evaluate all her previous prejudices…

It took almost half an hour for Kati to recover fully, but once she had, it seemed churlish not to at least reward Fatima with some small pleasure in return. She was not ready, now the excitement had cooled, to reciprocate fully...using her mouth on the other girl was still a step she hesitated over. But the offer to use her fingers was accepted gratefully. Several minutes later, Kati looked down almost curiously on a gasping and delighted Fatima as the Egyptian girl climaxed wildly around Kati’s deeply buried fingers. Fingers that were undoubtedly inexperienced, but her somewhat clumsy efforts still seemed to produce what was required of them.

Later, she would even permit the darker girl to kiss her softly in gratitude. Those lips were gentle and undemanding...enjoyable enough anyway for Kati to wonder if she was quite as committed to a life exclusively with a man as bed partner. No wonder Emi looked so stunned after those nights with the beautiful princess. If this was the sort of pleasure they gave each other, then...

XXX

While Kati was learning the delights of Sappho, Tomas was on a far more demanding mission. Leaving the palace by a circuitous and secret route, he crept through the city, his head and upper body cloaked in an anonymous grey kaftan robe. Plain enough not to attract undue attention, but rich enough to denote his status. In any case, his sheer physical size and the gleaming cutlass hanging from the stranded silk cord around his waist gave second thoughts to any potential cut throats. He might be anonymous to anyone seeing him tonight, but his muscular frame spoke of certain death to any attacker. He slipped silently through the deserted streets towards his destination. In his pocket, hidden in the lining of the cloak, was enough tiny gold and silver jewellery to keep a peasant family in luxury for many years. The hoard, courtesy of his generous mistress, was partly for the twins parents, partly for his physician friend, as payment for the toxic substance which would change all their lives for ever. After the...event...life in the palace would change for everyone. The princess, the twins and their family would need to be at sea and far away by the time the hue and cry began. He knew in his heart that the Sultana and himself were unlikely to be quite so lucky. Someone had to be at the palace to distract the angry regime, hungry for blood and vengeance. But that was for the future...for now, his mission was clear.


	9. Nine

Tomas knocked gently on a thick wooden door in a street on the far side of the great city. The cobbled and greasy roads were now deserted as it was well after midnight, but he still scanned the area carefully before ducking into the gloomy doorway. Only a stray dog curled up for warmth on the path noticed his stealthy figure. It whimpered briefly as if expecting a kick, but the tall black man in the grey shawl merely glanced at the mangy cur and passed on. Another lonely traveller through life’s shadows, he thought grimly. Existence in the back streets of Constantinople was be brutal and short for most.

The door creaked open immediately, as if the occupant had been waiting just inside it. For a big man, Tomas moved lightly and within a half second he was inside with the door firmly closed and barred again. The man who greeted him with the traditional Muslim blessing was shorter than him by a foot and bent by early disease, but even in the half light, Tomas could see fire in the mans eyes. Tomas had sought him out for this task because, apart from his mistress and her daughter, no one hated the Vizier more than his old friend Aki. Born like him a free man, his mother and boy had been captured in a raid on a rural north African village by Arab slave traders years ago. After the long and desperately sea sick journey across the seas chained in a creaking dhow, he had been sold at the market to a pharmacist who was looking for a quick witted boy to weigh herbs and grind paste for the physicians in the city. Lucky for Aki, but not for his mother. A tall, regal looking woman with finely etched features, she was selected for the palace sales. The Vizier, alerted by his cruel creature Cuk, had noticed her slim beauty at the auction and bought her for his harem with a handful of silver. 

Sadly for Aki’s mother, the prospect of submitting nightly to the already corpulent and goatish Minister was more than she could bear. She attempted suicide after the first night in his chambers. Unsuccessfully maybe, but her bloody and ruined body was of no use to him as a concubine any longer. So she was unceremoniously thrown from the palace walls sometime in the early hours of the night she was discovered naked and bleeding on her straw pallet. Her corpse merely added to the growing pile of discarded bodies no longer required by the Vizier over the years on the cobbles below. No one bothered giving the shattered body a second glance next morning. Nudged aside into the open sewer, it was just another piece of human flotsam for the great Bosphorus to carry out into the hungry sea.

Aki had harboured a deep and abiding hatred for the Vizier from that moment on. As a slave he had little opportunity over the years to turn that hatred into deed, but Tomas had now given him something he could do...something he was very good at. The pharmacist had taught him well over the years, and when Aki was made a free man on his eighteenth birthday, appointed the boy his paid apprentice rather than a servant. A few years later, the old man passed away from a wasting disease, and with no wife or sons to carry on the business, graciously left the shop and stock to his apprentice. In the years that followed, Aki had prospered well enough. Eager to learn and to innovate, his skills as a potion maker were soon highly sought after.

But the customers who used his pharmacy for ungents and poultices would have been shocked if they had known of his...other...sideline.

For Aki was known by a very few selected customers for another, deadlier skill. The ability to concoct poisons so potent and effective, enemies were dispatched with astonishing speed. He’d been lucky so far. His skill as a source of such substances was a closely guarded secret by those who knew and used him. But he realised, even as he let his muscular countryman in this dark night, that this dangerous exercise might be his last. Selling deadly nightshade paste or crushed white snake root to a merchant so he could incapacitate a rival was one thing. But both the target and the toxin in this case was of such a scale that he understood, even as he prepared for tonight’s bargain, that it was likely to be his last ever transaction. 

But as with Tomas, he was fully prepared to both carry out the task and suffer the bitter consequences. He had waited years for the opportunity to gain revenge on the cruel Vizier. If he had to meet his maker at the hands of the palace executioners soon after, he was nevertheless confident he would meet his gentle mother in paradise. A journey he would be happy to make.

The two men sat at a low table on hewn oak benches as the ritual of shared coffee was carried out. No meeting of two acquaintances in this empire was complete without a cup of the Arab blend so favoured by the male population. The hot liquid was drunk in silence. Both knew what this evening was about and Tomas was happy to allow Aki the decision to introduce the subject in his own time. They exchanged no pleasantries about family and friends. Neither had them in any case. Aki was still running the business alone and Tomas had only Gia and Naomi to call his own. But he would never discuss them directly with an outsider, even one as committed to the cause of the Viziers death as Aki. So they sat in comfortable silence for the few minutes it took for the intensely sweet coffee to cool enough to be swallowed.

Finally, Aki reached under the table and took out a small, tubular bottle, no longer that Tomas’s middle finger. 

“So little?” the nubian murmured, wondering at the idea of such a tiny thing wreaking such grand revenge.

“More than enough Tomas” Aki said quietly “...in fact maybe more than necessary. If this...substance...is applied correctly, it will be enough to kill many men. But my friend, it has to be applied correctly. It is in the form of a fine dust, not a liquid. This means it can be ingested in two ways. Through the stomach, which kills but takes a little longer, or through the lungs...inhaled as a powder. That is the quicker and more deadly method. But Tomas…?”

He paused.

“...the quantity required to kill one man is very, very small. Within hours...two at most...symptoms will begin to appear. Once they do, agonising death is certain. It is not an attractive end my friend...black, suppurating lesions erupt over the body, a high fever grows, then there is uncontrollable vomiting. Followed by convulsions and coughing up quantities of blood from the infected lungs. The victim..or his bodily fluids...will also be very toxic to those around him. Be careful...be very careful Tomas?”

The taller man nodded gravely. He was not familiar with the poison, but by the way Aki was emphasising the toxicity, he was in no doubt that the man was genuinely concerned for the welfare of others in the vicinity of the intended victim.

He lowered his voice to a gravelly husk.

“Aki, my friend, I understand your words. If the situation was not so perilous, I would not be asking you to risk your life for...”

Aki shook his head dismissively.

“My life?...my life ended Tomas, when that warthog butchered my mother. She’s in paradise waiting for me...and I will be happy to greet her again. No...do not worry about me, old friend. I care more for the success of the execution of this matter than life. But I do not want to go to my maker guilty of any unnecessary deaths. A man has much to confess before he will be allowed into heaven...my list of sins is already long?”

Tomas nodded again. His personal tally was long enough and killing the Vizier so horribly would add to the grim toll. But the protection of his mistress and the princess was paramount. 

The transaction was completed quickly...Tomas listened as Aki detailed scrupulously the application required, then secreted the sealed phial in a place even a body search would not reveal it. An unpleasant necessity. He left moments later, wrapped again in the anonymous grey kaftan. His walk back to the palace was untroubled and, letting himself into the walls by the same secret passageway he had left by, he slipped silently back into the temporary royal apartments via a door hidden behind a heavy tapestry. Once in his own room, he voided his body of the phial, washed it, then hid it inside a brass frame holding a grand painting of Suleiman the Magnificent. The old Sultans image was everywhere in the palace, even though his son had been ruler for years. The worst that could happen would be that the metal frame might be dusted by a slave on his morning cleaning duties. The deadly toxin should be safe until needed...which was getting closer by the hour.

XXX

“Kati...my sweet...so demanding?” Fatima laughed as she was pinned against the wall of the linen room. It had been two days since her ‘education’ of the twin and it seemed the appetite of the pretty brunette was still unsatisfied. 

“Stop talking so much Fatima” Kati growled, although her mouth was curled in a smirk “...I have a much better use for that clever tongue than chattering?”

Fatima laughed happily again. Far from being a reluctant convert, it seemed the hunger she had awoken in Kati was undiminished by the past two nights exertions. Now it felt like she was ambushed several times a day by a greedy Katerina, eager for more ‘lessons’.

Although lessons were really unnecessary now. From that first fumbling reciprocal response, Kati had picked up the basics very quickly. Now it was the pupil who was keenest to attend...classes. No more the reluctant partner, it was the twin who instigated ‘fun’ at every opportunity. So much so that a drowsy Emilia had angrily demanded that her sister keep the noise down last night. Emi had been surprised that her hitherto conventional sister had embraced the delights of Sappho quite so enthusiastically, but in truth her disapproval had more to do with the short time left before Naomi was to be sacrificed to Kamal. The princess and her petite lover had resumed carnal relations, but it was a more sombre, less exuberant Naomi who allowed Emi to caress her body at night. Every time they made love, it reminded both girls that their time together was getting shorter by the minute.

It hadn’t helped when Gia had insisted that Naomi accompany her to the Viziers quarters for a clear the air audience. At first Naomi had been horrified at the very idea and refused point blank. But Gia had been persistent and relentless. It was only when Emi quietly agreed that Naomi should at least attempt to appease the Vizier that she sulkily agreed. The meeting, supervised by Kamals eunuch as well as Tomas, went as well as it could, given that Naomi was on the verge of tears throughout. But she did as her mother ordered and humbly apologised for her bad behaviour at the Sultans decision. The Vizier struggled to hide his triumph at securing the grovelling acceptance of the Sultana and Princess. He was still ambiguous about their motives, but allowed both women to kiss his ring finger at the end of the conversation. His thoughts as Naomi bowed deeply before him, using her soft lips to briefly touch the large ruby on his smallest finger, were as depraved as any of his many enemies would expect. The thought of Naomi bowing before him in his bed chamber before carrying out one of the duties expected of an obedient wife made him stiffen under his voluminous robe. “Yes”, he thought darkly...”you will bow before me again princess..and those pink lips and tongue will make me as hard as an 18 year old...very soon”.

Luckily Naomi could not read the mans thoughts, otherwise she would probably have vomited over his pudgy fingers. No matter, the deed was done and she returned to the apartments with a scowl, once they were out of the Viziers sight, to be comforted by the ever attentive Emilia.

But now, with Emilia and Naomi in the orchard garden, talking quietly, Kati was interested in more games with Fatima. It was definitely no longer a chore...if it ever had been...and she found herself tingling whenever she remembered the way Fatima used that long tongue to please her. She had not forgotten the reason Gia had requested she seduce the slim Egyptian, and for the last two nights, had subtly pumped her new lover for information between long bouts of lust..all of which she passed... word for word, to the Sultana. But Kati was an earthy girl, always eager for more pleasure, so she thought it not unreasonable that she should gain the most enjoyment possible from the task.

“No more teasing my little Cleopatra...I need you to...”

Kati sighed as Fatima slipped a cool hand down the waistband of her loose pantaloons and began to cup and stroke her sex. The girls fingers were almost as nimble as her tongue and the taller girl soon slumped against the stacked linen piles as Fatima began to kiss her neck and whisper promises into her ear. Katerina’s thighs parted as the caresses began to become even more intimate. 

“By the gods...” she panted “..,.you drive me wild Fatima....inside now, my lover...deeper?”

Fatima obliged with a smile against the warm skin under her lips. She had plans for tonight involving a carved life like wooden phallus that had been inside her clothing bag ever since she moved back into the royal apartments. When she had been taught herself, in the days when she was a virginal innocent, the older woman who corrupted her had enjoyed pounding an open legged and sighing Fatima with the implement strapped to her waist with leather fasteners. Fatima’s virginity was not prized like Naomi’s. She was always destined to be a toy for the Vizier to play with occasionally. The dark haired women who educated Fatima was free to get rid of that small troublesome obstacle quickly. But the girl had soon started to enjoy it too...at least after the first painful thrust through her maidenhead, so she had occasionally since been able to persuade a female lover to use it on her. The Egyptian girl believed that Kati would be an eager convert too, once she’d used it once. But right now the darker girl needed to build some credit. Sucking on Kati’s bottom lip, she drove deeper into her with straight fingered eagerness. Careful still not to damage the maidenhead she knew Kati prized, she nevertheless could use considerable force to excite her lover. She moved her head down as Kati panted and took a hard nipple in her teeth as the warm wetness below clutched at her curling fingers. Biting down just enough to hurt but not to damage, she was rewarded by a loud whimper from above her. Kati it seemed enjoyed being treated a little roughly when she was approaching her climax. It was time to use the party trick again. Fatima quickly dropped to her knees, pulling Kati’s loose pantaloons down in as she dropped. Parting the smooth thighs in front of her forcefully, which earned her another gurgle of delight, Fatima pushed her head forward, between the gasping girls legs and drove her long tongue up inside her sex, thrusting it and two careful fingers in to tip Kati over the edge. Her hair roots screamed in protest as the girl above her arched and clutched at her head desperately again and again. 

The small room echoed to Katerina’s intense orgasm, her lover lapping slower as the spasms slowed. Then there was just the sound of heavy breathing and Fatima licking her lips.

When she stood again, it was with no reluctance that Kati kissed her back gratefully, no longer caring about the taste of herself on Fatima’s lips. It had been a foolish reluctance anyway...soon overcome. Now she knew what she and the Egyptian girl tasted like...and it was truly delicious she decided, she craved the flavour. Kati hummed her delight as the kiss ended.

“That was...just...” she grinned cheekily 

“I know Kati...I know” Fatima smiled back.

“Tonight, my angel, as a special treat...I’m going to let you….” Fatima put her head on Kati’s shoulder and whispered into Kati’s ear for a few seconds, leaning back afterwards to see the astonished look on her lovers face.

“Really...I didn’t know such things existed...a...an…?”

“An ejdera my sweet..in all but real flesh. I have enjoyed being used by one in the past...and I think you would very much enjoy wearing it to, uh...sikmek me?….I am such a naughty girl, as you well know…?”

Kati almost blushed...the slang words for a mans erect penis, then the coarse description for the act of love made her tingle all over again...even though her orgasm was just a few seconds ago.

“By the gods Fatima...yes...I would very much like that?” she said, goggling at the other girl.

The two left the laundry room hand in hand. Both looking forward very much to the dark hours.

XXX

Emi and Naomi lay side by side on the large bed, looking out at the dark skies above the palace. It seemed a million twinkling stars were looking down on them. But none offering a solution to the approaching crisis.

They had made love...slowly and gently. It seemed the days and nights of unbridled passion between them were over for now. The sex was wonderful still...it was hard for Naomi to imagine anything in her life ever being as perfect again. But something had been stolen from them when the Sultan made his announcement. True, they had always been victims of the ticking clock. But they were young...endlessly optimistic. Something that might happen in 6 long moons was a distant prospect, especially as her mother had promised to never let it happen. But 5 days was all they had now. Five days and four nights. Soon the Viziers servants would be milling around the apartments, organising clothes and expensive jewels for the bride to be. Soon too, the peace they were enjoying would be crushed under the weight of palace expectation. It was harder and harder for them to pretend that the forthcoming marriage was a mirage. Because every morning they rose together was one less to enjoy. More than once, Emi had found Naomi crying uncontrollably in the private bathroom, holding her face in her hands and sobbing as quietly as she could. It broke Emilia a little more every time.

The serious looks on the face of her mother and Tomas told them both that things were very bad. The cheery optimism of the Sultana from a week ago was now replaced with tired looking eyes and downcast frowns. Naomi had not dared ask if her mothers plans had progressed. The expression on her face was enough to make the princess turn away and look dully into the distance. Without realising, she gradually started to distance herself from everyone, including Emi. What was the point of pretending now? In less than a week, she would be the Viziers property, his to rut with and abuse, until he tired of her anyway...and who knew how long that would be?

Not that it mattered. Emilia would be long gone...banished back to her family...Kati too. And her mother would be unable to intercede any more. A husbands rights outweighed a mothers every time. Even her father the Sultan would not be able to aid her. If the Vizier, once he’d slated his thirst for her body, decided to beat her daily, shoulders would shrug and the gossip would be that she was a poor wife, worthy of little sympathy. A sort of black depression settled over Naomi. Nothing Emilia could do would lift it.

“Naomi my love...tell me what I can do to make you smile again…?” Emi said sadly. Their bodies were still cooling from the recent love making, but already she could feel Naomi slipping away from her, into that quiet, dark place her mind retreated to after passion was spent.

Naomi’s head turned to look at her lover. Her eyes were still brilliant blue, even in the semi darkness of the room, but there was an emptiness in them now. Gradually, the vitality was being drawn from her. Emi’s heart sank as Naomi forced a smile onto her face. Not a proper smile...but the sort you reserve for frail, elderly relatives or small children. A polite smile that says they have no idea what devils are torturing you.

“Nothing my sweet. You can do nothing to help me now...no one can. My mothers plans have obviously failed...even Tomas walks around with a sad face. I am lost my love...lost to you all. Maybe you should not wait for the engagement announcement? You know after that, the Vizier will banish my whole household until after the wedding? His own servants will take me to the harem before the ceremony. If you go now...in the morning at the latest...and take Kati with you...you will be out of reach of his people...his cruelty?”

Emilia gasped at the bleakness in Naomi’s voice. She sounded like someone about to be executed in the morning, who has dully accepted her fate.

“No Naomi...NO!” she said firmly “I will not...I cannot give up on you. There are five days yet for the Sultana to find a way. Please don’t despair...I love you with all my heart and soul. Without you I will wither and die...please Naomi…?”

Naomi tried to maintain her icy calm, but the sheer terror on Emi’s face broke her. She clung to the smaller girl almost desperately...

The sound of crying replaced conversation as the two wrapped arms around each other and sobbed in misery. 

XXX

Elsewhere in the palace, a pale faced boy of no more than twelve summers was being cuffed and kicked soundly by an older servant.

“Yusuf….why are you still hanging around the kitchens? His excellency the Vizier has requested quails eggs and menemen for breakfast. The olives and green peppers will spoil if you prepare them too soon. Go and lay the table...it will be dawn in an hour and you know how angry he gets if he has to wait even a minute?”

The boy shrugged as if he was indifferent to the Viziers anger, but it was all bravado. The man could be utterly vicious if crossed and there had been enough broken corpses littering the cobbles below the palace over the years for his servants to be rightly wary. He sighed in resignation. Being beaten by the older boy was a daily event...he hardly registered it. But he knew his job was to be up all night, ensuring breakfast was prepared in plenty of time. He sighed again. It could be worse...until the evil Cuk had been executed, the servant boy had known the enforcers personal body servant well. That unfortunate had been thrown from the walls after having his joints separated on the rack for just being with Cuk when he was discovered in that now sealed secret room. Not only that, but the boy had been required to service his master in ways which made Yusuf gag. At least the Vizier was only cruel...not a sodomite.

Running lightly on bare feet now, he entered the breakfast room where the dishes and cutlery were ready. The snow white Egyptian cotton table cloths were already on the two breakfast tables. Courtesy of some lucky servants who were already in bed. Unlike him. He grumbled as he set out the large silver oval plates and matching cutlery. The Vizier had a prodigious appetite even under normal circumstances. The boy shuddered as he wondered about the sharpness a night mounting the beautiful Princess Naomi would give the old goat. He spared some sympathy for the girl, but really it was not his business. Men were men after all and women merely their property...it was written.

Table laid and condiments placed in the centre (the Vizier was a little overfond of black pepper and salt) Yusuf yawned and scanned the room for anything amiss. Seeing nothing, he decided to chance an hours sleep under the shelf in the back kitchen. It was not yet light...plenty of time to wake and help carry the serving dishes into the tasters room for checking. The three men would be scrupulous as usual, each taking a small portion from every item of food. The Vizier never chanced a meal until they had.

XXX

As the boy slept unknowing in his small cubby hole, a silent figure stole into the Viziers breakfast room unseen. His mouth and nose covered by a silk mask, doused in vinegar...hands covered in white gloves, recently stolen from the musicians store room. Carefully...almost reverently... the figure unscrewed the top from the salt and pepper pots. Tipping an inch of granules from the top of each into a pouch, the hands tipped some greyish powder from a vial into the pots, then carefully replacing them on the table. Finally, the figure tipped more of the greyish powder onto the cutlery and plates, carefully wiping them down until only a light film remained. Just before the person left the room as silently as he had entered, the white napkin, rolled neatly beside the plates was dusted inside with the same light powder. As the figure left the room, if anyone had been observing, they would have heard a loud gasp as if someone had been holding their breath for the whole two minutes taken to perform this strange ritual.

The palace slept. Some, like Naomi and Emilia uneasily, nightmares of uncertain futures haunting them. Some, like Kati and Fatima, exhausted from love making. Some, like Tomas and Gia, nervous and apprehensive.

Only the Vizier and the Sultan slept peacefully...for all in their worlds was as it should be.


	10. Ten

Morning at the palace.

Yusuf the boy slave groaned when his stiff neck complained as he woke. An hours sleep had helped his exhaustion a tiny amount, but the cramped space under the kitchen shelf had made sure his neck tendons ached and the muscles cried out in protest as he clambered out. Already he could smell the fresh bread cooking in the huge ovens hauled up the hill to this temporary building to replace the burned out hulks in the original kitchens. The Sultan had ordered the main bakery in the city to replace his fire ruined ovens and there was real resentment in the town as the smaller bakers struggled to keep up with demand. But that was not Yusuf’s problem. No...his problem was the burly red faced cook barrelling towards him right now with a look of fury on his face. Getting a beating from Ahmed or Beku, his immediate superiors, was a daily occurrence...one he bore with resigned fortitude. But Kemal the chief cook was quite another story. His beatings could break bones and crush unwary ribs. Yusuf managed by the skin of his teeth to avoid the swung ladle and scamper out of the kitchen, skipping nimbly around the army of servants already making their way into the room to serve breakfast to the palace elite.

He eventually skidded to a halt on the polished floors of the Viziers dining room just in time to see the tasters at work, The three large oval dishes he had laid out in the early hours were now crammed with fresh food. Squab chickens roasted over an open fire lay in delicious steaming rows on a long platter. Quails eggs, hard boiled and peeled, peppers both red and yellow, grapes, fresh bread and various other exotic treats lined the table. Yusuf hid behind a table cloth a few yards away, watching the serious faced men sampling food from each dish. They were meticulous and precise in their labour, being careful not to spoil the presentational glory of the dishes whilst making sure that no item was left unsampled. After all, their lives as well as the Viziers depended on it.

Satisfied that no poison was present, the men bowed to the Viziers senior aide and left the room. Only then did the two huge oak doors at the end of the room open to reveal the man himself in full court dress, fresh from his morning bath. At his sides were another two aides, bowing and scraping deferentially as their master regally proceeded to the table. He was helped onto the long heavily padded couch to one side where he settled like a beach master elephant seal, wheezing slightly but supremely comfortable in his domain. With their master at his table, the courtiers withdrew to the far side of the room to break their own fast. Perhaps their repast was a little less abundant, but not by much. Yusuf’s mouth watered as the Vizier took a large chunk of roasted chicken and dipped it into a rich sauce before putting the whole thigh in his mouth. From his position under the table, hidden by the heavy cotton cloth, the boy could watch his masters gorge themselves. He knew that if he was patient, there would be tasty scraps to be stolen, before the kitchen slaves came to clear away. So he waited and watched.

The Vizier, chin greasy from the chicken fat, took a thick white napkin from a silver ring and shook it briefly before wiping his lips. Something must have irritated his nose, because as the cloth was pulled away from his mouth, he sneezed violently and had to wipe his nostrils irritably. Yusuf jumped at the loud snort, almost giving himself away. He gripped the sturdy leg under the table and forced himself to be still. A beating from Kemal would be the least of his worries if he was discovered now.

The Vizier worked his way steadily through several courses. Today was going to be a good day, he decided. The Sultana and Naomi had bowed to the inevitable and tomorrow, with less than four days to go until the announcement, he would be able to issue the order to prepare a private room in his harem for the princess to be taken to. Once there, even before the wedding itself, she would be his creature forever. A captive beauty waiting for her master to decide her fate. A fate he relished revealing to her, bit by crude bit. 

He sprinkled salt and pepper liberally on his eggs and meat, stuffing both in his constantly chewing jaws as he contemplated his continued good luck. Once married to the princess, he would not only have a beautiful and compliant wife to rut with nightly, but an exquisite ornament to show off at state occasions. And being married into the royal family would secure his position at court for ever. Whatever the future held, his good fortune would be assured.

Just then there was a muffled commotion at the double doors. Kamal frowned...he always left strict orders that his meals were to be undisturbed by business matters...who was this to upset his routine?

He saw the anxious faces at the doors look his way...it seemed the visitor was important enough for him to be alerted. The Vizier sat up straighter and wiped his face again with the cotton cloth. And again a sneeze threatened to come up from his nose, but he pinched it hard and willed the spasm to pass, drawing a deep inward breath with the cloth pressed hard against his cheeks.

Such a little gesture...so mundane, but akin to signing his own death warrant with an extravagant flourish.

Just as well he had been alerted, because as the doors parted properly, he could see clearly the Sultans personal entourage coming in. Behind them, splendid in peacock blue and gold silk, Selim himself strode purposefully towards him. Now the Vizier was a man not used to sudden movements...his progress through the court and his own offices was always stately, more because of his girth than his status. But this morning, he summoned up a burst of energy and stumbled to his feet. Grand he might be but an unannounced visit from Selim II was always to be feared. The man might be generally cordial and avuncular to his Prime Minister normally, but it was a mood not to be taken for granted. The Sultan literally had the lives of his citizens, no matter how exalted, in the palm of his hand. 

Kamals own servants rushed to his side, supporting him as he straightened, but he angrily brushed them aside. It was not wise to reveal too many frailties to the ruler in case he decided at some future date to ‘retire’ him.

Selim smiled as he got closer and the Viziers face relaxed a little. If this had been a less friendly visit, he would already be accompanied by the elite guard. But Selim was alone apart from his unctuous major domo. 

“Sit my old friend” the Sultan said warmly “I was in the gardens when I caught the aroma of that roast bird you have on your table...I broke my fast an hour or two ago with plain bread and water...but you have tempted my stomach with your sumptuous meal?”

Kamal bowed deeply and wondered if there was a coded message in that short sentence. The Sultan was famous for his spartan tastes and perhaps there was a rebuke at his gluttony hidden inside the warm words. But when the stout minister straightened, there was no sign of sarcasm on his lords face. Maybe it was as simple as that?

“Lord...my table is yours of course..please...won’t you sit and eat?”

The Sultan smiled and waved a hand in airy dismissal.

“Certainly not Kamal...a man should be permitted to eat his own breakfast in peace...but I will take a portion of that fowl and some salt...just to take the edge off my appetite...I have a meeting with the cursed Persians at noon...I will need all my wits about me to fence with that oily ambassador...such a devious man Vizier..wouldn’t you agree?”

The Vizier would have agreed just about anything at that point. If this was just a flying visit, he could finish his breakfast in peace...he’d been planning on some salted eggs to finish.

“Highness...please...whatever you desire...I am honoured by your mere presence”

The Sultan smiled again...a little less warmly this time. A man did not become ruler of most of the civilised world without recognising empty flattery. He reached over and tore off a plump thigh from a roasted squab on the long dish in front of him and sprinkled it liberally with salt and pepper from the silver pots. His courtiers fussed for a second, taking far too many napkins from the table for their masters soon to be greasy fingers.

And then he was gone...waving farewell to Kamal over his shoulder. The Vizier had somewhat lost his appetite by then. In all the years he had worked and served the Sultan, this was the first unannounced visit Selim had ever made to the Viziers apartments. It troubled him, even though his face betrayed nothing of his concern. His expression remained poker like. But he managed three more sweet quails eggs all the same, sprinkled with the same liberal amount of seasoning that his master had used.

XXX

In the women’s quarters, Naomi was surprised to see her mother up and around already. Usually, Gia was a later riser than her daughter. Neither the Sultana or her daughter had much of an appetite this fine morning. Naomi was still aching inside at the way time was slipping away from her and her beloved Emi. Just four days now and it seemed that the clock was speeding up, the closer the dreaded day got. 

Gia was distracted for a different reason. If what Tomas had told her at dawn was correct, within two hours something dreadful was about to befall the Vizier. There was no turning back now...the deed was done...she just hoped the death toll for other unfortunates was low. Bad enough she had the fat Viziers demise on her conscience...the painful deaths of true innocents was hard to bear. So she had quietly locked herself in small anteroom before leaving her apartment and took out the small carved images of Zeus, Hera, Athena and Artemis she kept secret. She prayed for their individual protection and forgiveness for what was to happen later. 

When she finally emerged into the daylight, she felt a little lighter at heart. No one could know what the gods would decide...but she put hers and Naomi’s lives into their hands. When it mattered, the old beliefs were still stronger in her.

They strolled in the garden, watching the pale small petals fall from the fruit trees as more fruit ripened above. A beautiful, tranquil place indeed...but Gia knew things were about to change very soon. Emilia and Katerina joined them shortly after bathing. The Sultana wanted her little chicks close by when the grey fox of death entered their gilded hen house…

XXX

In the Viziers offices two hours later, things were still going to plan. He had summoned several trusted aides and issued instructions for the next stage of his scheme. Some to prepare the brides new quarters, some to begin writing proclamations for the provinces about the nuptials. He even had time to write a long and complicated letter to the King of Macedonia regarding some annoying border issue. Just as his stomach rumbled, reminding him that his breakfast had been somewhat curtailed by the unexpected arrival of his monarch...something else took his attention.

It began with a tiny reddish brown mark on his forearm. He stared at it for a second as he stretched to replace his quill pen in the amber holder. He had no recollection of colliding with anything? The mark was quite like a bruise. It did not hurt...at least not then and he would not have even noticed it if his brocade sleeve had not ridden up as he moved. Shrugging, he carried on working. Half an hour after that, his throat began to itch. Remembering the sneezing fit this morning he grumbled to himself...a chill was the last thing he needed. In less than a week he wanted to be fighting fit. The physician had already provided him with the elixir he had sought to make his wedding night memorable. The old man had smirked at him slyly when he passed the phial over.

“My lord...this potion is very effective...your manhood will be as an iron rod for two hours...like a stallion covering his first filly. But be careful only to take three drops in liquid...any more and you will not be able to sit comfortably for the rest of the day?”

Kamal had smirked too then. Just what he needed. His pretty little filly would whimper and moan pitifully as he mounted her over and over again. 

“But there is another use for this mixture Minister...I have heard from the Egyptians that a tiny amount given in water to your chosen bed partner before intercourse will increase her desire tenfold too. That is if my lord wishes the girl to enjoy the union?”

Kamal shook his head and grunted in blunt dismissal. The feelings of the princess Naomi were irrelevant. Women were not supposed to enjoy sexual congress...it was a mans right only. Her nights with the pretty dark haired Emilia were already the talk of the servants quarters. The slave Fatima had described their activities in some detail. No...Naomi had enjoyed her youthful passion with the servant girl quite enough. Now she was only to be an obedient and submissive wife.

But with the itching in his nose increasing, he was angry. A chill was the last thing he desired this close to the engagement. He called for the physician again, but when the man arrived he could offer only advice about rest and hot drinks. No use at all. He dismissed the man with a crude oath. 

But Kamals problems were only just beginning. His head began to ache abominably. The pressure over his eyes increased until he was forced to lie down on his day bed, body suddenly heavy and aching. If this was a chill, it was a severe one...he cursed his luck, which seemed to have abruptly changed for the worse.

Once again he yelled for the physician, who this time diagnosed a proper fever...probably brought on by overwork and excitement over the coming nuptials. The man was annoyingly vague about how long his recovery would take and the Vizier was on the verge of dismissing him again when his sleeve slipped up an arm again as the man took his pulse. The grey haired man stared at his arm wide eyed.

“My Lord...how long,,,how long have you had that lesion?” he said in a shocked voice.

Kamals heart thumped as he saw how pale the mans face was. He looked down himself at the small bruise he expected to see. But his own face paled when he found that the small reddish mark was now bright crimson and twice the size at least. Not only that but in the centre, surrounded by the irregular edges of the swelling, was a blackened and suppurating core. He had never seen anything like it in his life, and the physician was gradually edging away from him in a way that chilled him to the bone.

“My lord...how long?” the man repeated faintly, from two feet further away. The Viziers body trembled as shock overcame him. What was this abomination?

“A few hours...it was just a small bruise...what is happening to me, fool?”

The man swallowed and looked away nervously. 

“I have only seen this once before Minister...in Arabia. It looks very much like...”

He stopped, unable to form the word.

“Like what?” The Vizier shouted, although his voice cracked at the end. Damn this aching throat...he needed water.

“Water man...I...I thirst” he said croakily. The fever which was quickly seizing him had taken over his whole body. He shook like a man immersed in a freezing pond, even though his body burned like a furnace. It was gradually dawning on Kamal that this was indeed very serious. This was no ordinary fever.

The physician passed him a cup of cold water, making sure that their fingers did not touch. Kamal gasped in thanks and swallowed the whole cup in two swallows.

A mistake. The cold liquid hit his churning stomach and was ejected straight back out again, all over the chest of the cringing doctor.

“What IS it man” Kamal gurgled, feeling the ache in his head gradually flood the rest of his body. He was burning up.

“It looks like...like...plague master?” the man choked, wiping his soaked front down with a cloth and staring at Kamal as if he was some sort of monster.

“Plague?” the Vizier said incredulously “..there is no plague in Constantinople...not for a generation?”

Just then, another servant alerted by the shouting ran into the room. Kamal’s eyes were blurring and his stomach, irritated by the water, had begun to roll and surge. The mans eyes bulged as he too saw the blooming lesion on his masters arm. Plague might be absent from the city, but it had visited Constantinople many times in the past few hundred years...even the lowliest peasant was terrified of it returning.

“M...master?” the servant said in a trembling voice

Suddenly the Viziers gut spasmed violently. He doubled over and vomited greenish yellow liquid again and again over the expensive furnishings. His fat body jerked and arched like a bow. The physician and servant shrank back in horror. The symptoms he was exhibiting were not typical of plague, but as the man fell to the floor, still contorting, the doctor saw that the lesion on his arm was not the only one...there was one appearing on his back too. Not buboes as true plague would produce, no not them. They would have been under his arms in any case...this was something he had never seen before. It was attacking the Vizier at startling speed. The choking sounds had stopped now...but instead the portly minister was wheezing, face down as if he had terminal pneumonia. Unwilling to get any closer, the two men stood in shock as the symptoms shook their master. The physician was sure that whatever it was, it would be fatal. No one he had ever seen demonstrating such a violent reaction to fever had ever survived. Something had to be done...but what?

In the end, the decision was taken out of his hands. A palace guard, alerted by the noises coming from the Viziers chamber ran in, took one look at the writhing man and the two others staring at him in shock, then immediately ran out, calling out the rest of the guard. Whatever this dreadful thing was that had affected the Vizier, it must not leave this chamber. The Palace Guard was there primarily to protect the royal family after all.

XXX

In minutes, the Viziers chambers were sealed off by heavily armed men. No one was now allowed in or out, which alarmed the two men already inside greatly, but the captain of the guard was stone faced and adamant.

“You’re a physician...treat your patient, man. The servant already in there with you can assist. This...whatever it is...must not be allowed to infect the palace...understand?”

It was already way too late for that, but no one knew it then.

XXX

Gia was trying to distract the girls with an anecdote about her teenage years, which because it was funny and simultaneously rather filthy, made Naomi cringe and the twins giggle loudly. The princess had always been embarrassed about Gia’s propensity for risqué stories...her mothers uninhibited side was seldom revealed nowadays, but as Naomi grew up, she had been regaled with some real eye openers about the lifestyle the inhabitants of the Sultana’s home island enjoyed. 

But the story was rudely interrupted by a commotion in the building below the orchards. Men, some armed...all with worried faces, were to be seen running back and forth. The women stared anxiously down the slope at the activity. Loud shouts and the clink of weapons were not a good sign normally. 

Just then Tomas appeared at the end of the avenue of blossoming trees. He signalled subtly with his hand to the Sultana, which transformed her face from one of wry amusement to icy resolve in a moment.

“Children” she said briskly “...the time for merriment is over. Things are happening today which are going to change your lives forever. Naomi...run to your rooms, daughter and collect a small black cloth bag which is under your bed. Nothing else mind...no clothing or other unnecessary trinkets. We have little time. Go girl...fetch the bag and come back here to me?”

Naomi knew instantly that the plan her mother had talked about for months was about to start. Sensibly, she didn’t argue, but ran lightly down the avenue of trees towards the temporary royal apartments. Emilia and Katerina looked at each other in shock. They had no awareness of the plans Gia and Tomas had put into place, so they had little idea how to react.

“Girls...you do not need to fetch anything...you have little enough of value anyway and whatever you need for your long journey...” they stared at her blankly at that revelation, “...will be provided. Naomi will be back in a moment and I need you both to do exactly as Tomas and I say...understood?”

Kati opened her mouth to ask about Fatima...but the look in Gia’s eyes was enough to stop the words forming. Whatever was happening now was obviously much bigger than her erotic dalliance with a slave girl, no matter how pleasant. She had a second or two to feel regret that she would not be sleeping with the sinuous Egyptian again before Naomi reappeared, holding a small cloth bag no bigger than a mans purse in her hand.

“Mother...there are palace guards everywhere...I barely made it back without being seen?...” she gasped, but Gia was already walking away, towards the waiting Tomas. The time for talking was over.

XXX

Tomas led them past some low plum trees and between two large flowering bushes. Pulling back some thick ivy, they could then see a dusty and overgrown door set into reddish brickwork. The building behind the door was similarly unused...it looked like a the sort of construction used by the gardeners to store tools.

And so it proved...as Tomas drew back the heavy door, Gia led the silent and scared girls into a dark space with scythes and shears stacked against one of the bare brick walls. He headed into the far corner of the cobweb strewn room and pulled back a sheet of dark material. One by one he took from the pile a succession of grey and stained robes, each with a hood. They smelled like the garden store, musty and damp, but the worried look on the adults faces was enough to silence any protests. Obediently, the three girls and Gia put the old robes on over their fine court clothing. Finally, the Nubian took four pairs of rough looking peasant sandals from the same place and indicated that they should discard their fine silk slippers for this footwear. Again without dissent, Gia and the girls obeyed. Her mothers words from before echoed in Naomi’s ears. Do exactly as they say and all of them would be free of the gruesome Vizier for ever. Once dressed in the peasant garb, the girls waited as Tomas pushed the pairs of fancy slippers into a drum of black oil standing by the door. No one would discover them for weeks...plenty of time if they were lucky. Then the man rubbed his oily hands in the dirt floor and began to smear the mixture onto Gia’s face. She allowed this liberty silently, which astonished Naomi...she had never, in all her sixteen years, seen the eunuch physically touch her mother. Even more astonishment followed as Gia replicated his actions with the girls one at a time.

“If we are to pass as peasants girls, a dirty face is a small price to pay. Those smooth and uncalloused hands are enough of a clue...no point in your pretty faces confirming the deceit?”

Then, without waiting for the girls to respond to their mother, the tall black man pushed aside a long rack of woven fruit baskets. The metal legs made a shrieking sound as he did, but he knew any guards would be many feet away...not near enough to hear the sound.

Behind the rack was another door, smaller by half than the outer one and even more dusty and cobwebbed. Gia helped him clear the lock and he then produced a small metal key, slipping it inside the brass lock and turning it. It squeaked alarmingly as he did and all four cringed at the possibility that it might snap in the pad lock, but it finally gave way. Pushing the door fully open, Tomas reached under the basket rack and pulled out a thick stake with bound cloth around one end. It smelled of oil and when Tomas flicked a spark from a flint he took from his pocket, it flared into life.

Ushering them inside, Tomas followed quickly, holding the lighted torch above his head. The corridor which stretched out in front of them was long but high enough for them to stand upright, even Tomas. He pushed the door firmly closed behind him, locking it and handing Gia the torch as he located, then put in place a sturdy crossbeam which obviously acted as a barricade against anyone following. They waited until Tomas had broken off the key in the lock before Gia handed him the spluttering torch back. Then he began to stride quickly down the long and winding corridor, which quickly started to drop downhill steeply. Within a few minutes, it was obvious to all that the corridor led right down, under the palace. For another few minutes Tomas led them silently. Then he stopped and waited for them to catch up.

“My ladies...we will shortly be at the bottom of this long disused tunnel. It leads to another door in the walls, which will take us to the water side. I have arranged for a barge to be waiting for us. With the things now happening in the palace having alerted the Imperial Guard, we will have to be very, very careful from now on. Unfriendly eyes and ears are all around. Just one curious glance is all it takes for us to be discovered. Then we will all be taken back to the palace in chains to be executed. There will be no forgiveness from your father Naomi for this crime. The Vizier is either dead or dying in agony at this very moment. We have a short while before confusion turns to realisation. When that happens, the whole palace will be looking for a missing queen and her daughter?”

Naomi shivered in fear. The Vizier dead? What in the gods names had her mother and Tomas done?

But she was clever enough not to ask right now. Emi and Kati trembled with the same fear beside her. As mere servant girls, they would be cruelly dispatched along with their mistress if the plot was uncovered too soon. Fear made them easy to cow. 

Getting no objections, Tomas walked another ten steps then snuffed out the torch, leaving them in pitch darkness. But almost immediately light flooded the dank corridor as the outer door was pushed open.

They could hear the sound of the water as they emerged, blinking in the sunlight. Above them, the palace walls rose sheer a hundred feet or more...and right in front of them, moored against the bank, was a barge so filthy, so old, it seemed a miracle that it remained afloat. On board was a man similarly decrepit. His white, stained beard hung down to his belt and his stomach was so large, it rivalled even the Viziers paunch. But unlike the Vizier, his clothes were almost falling apart. Emi wrinkled her nose as the stench of old fish guts reached her nose. He reeked of it.

Gia saw the expression and rested her hand on the small twins shoulder. 

“The vessel will do fine Emi...and the master too. We could hardly use the Royal Barge, now could we child?”

The comment even made Tomas smile… at least for a second. But then the grim expression he had worn since the orchard returned.

“Come my children” he said kindly “...Abdul is waiting...we have a long river journey before nightfall...and then onto a bigger vessel inshallah. The palace will be alive with rumours by now...best we are at sea before someone clever adds the numbers and comes up with the right total?”

The old man held out a grimy hand as they boarded, but none of them protested at the fresh dirt it left on their clean palms. As Gia had said, it seemed a small price to pay for freedom.

XXX

Two hours later, the old sailing barge was cutting steadily through thinning local boat traffic and the palace was becoming a distant blur on the horizon. Still hooded, the women and Tomas watched it disappear into the distance from the stern with varying degrees of hope in their hearts. Ahead lie the Bosphorus strait...then the huge Marmaris inland sea. 

XXX

Back in the Topkapi, things were not quite as calm. The Vizier had by now subsided into a gurgling heap on the floor. The physician and reluctant servant had managed to roll him onto his back, then cover him with a light wall hanging which they had ripped from its holder. The man was purple faced and breathing shallowly, but they were grateful, both for him and themselves, that he appeared to have lost consciousness. They stood a few feet away, fearful of approaching closer while he still breathed. No one was in any doubt that the Vizier was already a dead man...it was just that his heart refused to accept it yet. Having scrupulously washed his hands several times after tearing off the water stained tunic top the Vizier had vomited over, the physician prayed he had kept the toxins off his skin, but unknown to him, tiny spores from the Viziers coughing had already entered his lungs. It would be a slower and more subtle infection that eventually killed him, but just as certain.

From the doorway, the captain of the guard shouted questions and demanded answers from the occupants of the death room. The Vizier was clearly beyond help, but the guard was concerned now about further contamination. Sealed, the room was as safe as he could make it, but he needed to know if anyone else had entered and left recently. Unfortunately, the physician did not know, although the nervous servant thought it had been some time since anyone else had disturbed the Viziers peace.

Again, unknown to the guard captain or anyone else at that time, the crime scene was not the Viziers office at all. Down in the room where the fat minister had breakfasted, the cutlery, dishes and linen had already been cleared away. Under the small table at the end of the room, a few chewed fowl bones were the only evidence that the slave boy Yusuf had managed to steal some scraps from the Viziers table after the room had emptied. In the wash rooms, servants had diligently scrubbed the plates and cutlery in hot water and soap. Most of the residual toxins were washed down the sinks and away into the sewers. But enough had survived to infect a dozen unknowing victims. It would be several hours until the first of them began to cough and sneeze...

But worse, much worse...above the Viziers apartments the Sultan himself was taking command of the quarantine exercise, sitting on his silken chair surrounded by his trusted aides plus a few chosen guards. His infection had been primary...straight from the pure toxic dust in the condiment pots. It was only an hour after Kamal collapsed that Selim began to shift uneasily in his seat, feeling a wave of nausea wash over him. It was only then that his mind went back to the moment he had shared the Viziers breakfast. Cold dread filled his mind. Surely not…?

The palace resembled an overturned termite nest at that point. Hundreds of courtiers, officials, servants and slaves milled around, uncertain where safety lay. The area around the Viziers apartments was the only part deserted. The palace guard stood in rows at every entrance and exit, ensuring no one entered or left. Plague...or whatever dreadful variant of that ancient disease this was, ranked number one in peoples minds as the most implacable killer of men in the known world. If it truly was the black death, everyone had a tale to tell about previous outbreaks. Families handed the stories down through the generations. Children sat at their fathers feet and listened in horror as the chilling consequences of a serious outbreak were described. The whole city, within two hours of news of the Viziers collapse, was holding its breath...both literally and figuratively.

Ten miles away, still gently rolling as the tide tried to push the barge sideways against the pull of the unfurled sails, Naomi and Emilia sat in the stern of the old boat, clutching each other for comfort. Gia, Tomas and Kati had gone below to make coffee on the old mans galley stove. The vessel might be stinking and disgusting, but the fugitives would need something warm inside them and the stimulating effect of the dark liquid would raise their spirits a little...at least that was the hope. 

Gia knew it was almost certain that their absence had been noted by now. She counted on the confusion and fear no doubt filling the palace giving them a few hours start. If the Sultan sent his trusted men to the women’s chambers to escort them to ‘safety’ she thought it likely that, seeing the rooms empty and no belongings or clothes taken, they would report back that Tomas, her faithful retainer, had beaten them to it. Another hour or two added to their flight being noticed was valuable beyond price...if they were lucky.

In fact, their ‘luck’ was about to improve...although not for the reasons Gia pondered as the boat continued to head down the Bosphorus towards the mouth of the Marmaris sea. Once through the strait, they would hug the northern coast until they reached a small fishing village where Tomas had arranged for a fast north African dhow to meet them, Men from his village had promised...for gold as well as loyalty to their countryman... to transport the royal cargo onto its final destination. The Ottoman navy was large and well organised, but with literally thousands of identical trading vessels plying the inland sea, there was a good chance they could slip out of Marmaris and into the great Aegean Sea. Once in that vast expanse of water, they might just make it. 

But back in the palace, something grim and implacable was coursing through unknowing veins. The Sultan was now certain that he had contracted something similar to the Vizier. Again, he cursed his impulse to snatch a morsel of food from the fat old fools breakfast table. The headache he had developed was deep and painful...but more worrying by far was the itchy rash on his neck. Taking a bejewelled looking-glass from his desk, he stared in horror at the red mark with its black centre. Selim was a clever man...a ruler of millions. He knew in his heart that the disease had claimed him. The story his palace guards had told him about Kamal’s rapid decline into unconsciousness scared him almost witless. But knowing the turmoil that would ensue if he merely accepted his fate, he immediately sent for his sons. Murad, his eldest would succeed him if he truly was to meet his maker this day. But he was well aware given the turmoil and fratricide that occurred after his own ascension, that his other sons would be terrified of the consequences of him dying so abruptly. In normal times, his Vizier...the most powerful man in the caliphate apart from Selim...could be relied upon to see the succession through as smoothly as possible. But with Kamal on the verge of death himself, matters were far from normal.

As the fever began to rage higher in him, Selim insisted that his 6 sons attend him on the other side of a thin silk screen. He had no idea if plague was the thing that was afflicting him, but if the physicians were to be believed, if his sons did not breath the same air as him, they would not be infected too.

XXX

“What is to become of us, my angel” Emi asked, her pretty face smudged with the oily dirt Tomas had smeared on her earlier. Naomi smiled down at her beautiful lover. The dirt only managed to increase her beauty, the princess thought. Those deep brown eyes, worried as they were, still glowed with life. Her heart thumped as she considered just how close they had come to being parted for ever. In danger they might be and this perilous journey was far from over, but just by Emi slipping her small hand under her own, the prospect did not seem as fraught. Naomi knew that whatever happened now, would happen to both of them. Dying was still something she dreaded, but at least she had now tasted real love. The Vizier would never be her husband...not now.

“I don’t know my love...but Tomas and mama have guided us well so far, have they not? We have a chance to escape what was planned for us. Kamal is dead or dying and we have a good head start. Mama told me when you were feeling unwell (seasickness had affected Emilia the most so far) that your family has been taken to safety too?”

Emilia’s face showed her relief. With the drama of the past morning, she had guiltily realised only an hour ago that the palace investigators would be visiting her mama and papa very soon. She smiled.

“I have much to thank Tomas and the Sultana for...they have placed themselves in great danger to save you...and us. I will never be able to thank them. I have my beautiful princess...what more could a poor servant girl ask for?”

Naomi opened her mouth to ask what Emi meant by that, then noticed the glint in those dark eyes and the upturn of her pretty lips. She was being teased. But there was a serious point in that remark. Princess…?

“No more the princess darling Emilia. I am but a poor servant girl like you now? I peeked in the bag mama told me to fetch and there is certainly enough gold and jewellery in there to keep us in food and shelter for a good while...wherever we land. But no more rubies, silk sheets and scraping servants for me or mama. Now we’ll have to learn to live like normal people?”

Emi looked up at her quizzically.

“Will that be hard for you my pri...my love?”

Naomi shook her head decisively.

“No...and it never was Emi...we cannot help what situation we are born into, but being a princess was never that important to me. Meeting you has taught me that money cannot buy the sort of happiness you give me. I love you with all my heart...and however long the gods grant us life, I want to spend every second of it with you. You are my princess Emi...the queen of my heart”

Tears formed in the eyes of her lover as she finished.

“I feel the same way Naomi, my love. It feels like I started living the moment we met. Everything before that is grey and distant. If our lives are to be short...it is enough that we have each other…?”

The two girls moved closer and wrapped possessive arms round each other as they watched the sun dropping towards the horizon. Gia was just coming up the galley steps and stopped with the coffee pot in her hand as she caught sight of them. A feeling of sudden happiness made tears come to her own eyes. Whatever the future held, her girls...Kati included...were together. It was more than she had dared hope for even yesterday

XXX

It was Tomas of course, who noticed. The sun was now a dim red line across the horizon. Stars twinkled above them like a million individual diamonds in the darkening skies. He watched the shoreline closely, hooded and seeming to an observer like he was slumbering. But the lights of the small hamlets along the rocky coast were definitely getting closer. 

Which was wrong.

He had plotted this journey out himself in the great library, while his mistress sat with illustrated drawings of her home island. Plotted it and measured it meticulously. They should not be heading into shore for another two hours at least. Something was wrong. Without giving any indication that he was awake, he subtly slipped a two edged dagger into his palm. The master of this vessel had been well paid for his help. But there was always someone ready to reward more….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, long chapter. Hope you liked it. Not much Naomily in it I know, but patience...there will be lots of smutty roly poly later...hopefully.
> 
> BTW, the Sultan Selim II did die in 1574, but not from plague...or anthrax, which is actually the disease I used as the mysterious poison. Nasty stuff...usually 80% fatal if inhaled. The spores are long lived and easily transmitted. In the sixteenth century, there would have been no physician on earth who could treat it...or even offer palliative care. A truly horrible way to die. Perfect for the Vizier, yes? Nobody puts Naomi in the corner...right? (sorry Dirty Dancing fans!)


	11. Eleven

For a big, powerful man...Tomas was capable of movement so subtle that in another life, he might have run the evil Cuk close as an assassin. But killing did not come as easily to the big Nubian as it had to the Viziers ex enforcer. True he had dispatched several men already, but another death would hang heavy on his conscience. But unpleasant as it might be, this murder would be necessary. Another five minutes subtly checking the stars and the ever brighter dots of yellow lamp lights on the distant land, told him that his initial feeling was correct. The squat barge was ever so gently angling towards a shoreline unfamiliar to Tomas. The maps in the great library he had studied had been extensive and incredibly detailed. Hours of poring over them had given him an almost photographic memory of their route. Even at sea, he was methodically cataloguing and checking off waypoints as they passed them. 

This ‘diversion’ was definitely not on his itinerary...and shouldn’t have been on the barge masters either. Tomas had been very careful not to reveal to much about his precious human cargo, but in truth, the princess and Gia were hard to disguise, even to a lowly river trader. Those noble blue eyes and the softness of their hands...Tomas had noted with a grimace of distaste the seaman’s calculated gesture... touching each one of his charges on the palm as they boarded. The women may have passed it off as merely old fashioned good manners, but the Nubian always had an eye for anything odd.

So, as the barge subtly altered course yet again, obviously aiming for a thin promontory of land covered in olive trees a mile away, Tomas tensed for yet another unpleasant bit of savagery. But there was one other rather important problem associated with slitting the fat bargee’s throat...who was to steer the vessel afterwards? Tomas had many skills and abilities, but sailing a heavy and cumbersome sailing barge to a distant port wasn’t one of them. He briefly considered keeping the captain bound and alive...at least until they reached the sea of Marmaris, but at some point, they had to sleep. Even if they were lucky and the hue and cry back in the city was delayed by the rapid spread of infection at the palace, sooner or later someone would join up the dots and begin an organised hunt for them at sea. Asleep, Tomas would be vulnerable to attack himself and then what? The Sultana was resourceful and clever...but none of the women would be capable of overpowering the burly seaman alone. Fat he might be, but there was solid muscle under all that blubber. If Abdul had decided to double his income by accepting an offer to sell the women on to slavers or worse, he would have to be dealt with decisively this night.

Concentrating on the change of direction and the figure of the master crouched over in the wheelhouse, who was watching the horizon as keenly as him, Tomas started as Gia appeared out of the gloom and sat lightly beside him.

“We’ve altered course towards the shore Tomas” she said in a whisper, leaning closer to him “...why?”

The black man concealed his surprise at his Sultana’s keen observation with a non committal shrug.

“Not sure mistress...but I’ve noticed our fat friend checking a chart in that filthy wheelhouse more than once. My best guess is he has plans to put us ashore early. Probably into the hands of some local cut throats or slavers?”

Gia showed no surprise at his blunt explanation, just nodded slowly.

“If you try to confront him tonight Tomas, he’ll probably just deny it...but we all have to sleep at some point. You may find yourself with a gutting blade across your throat and then we’ll all be in real trouble?”

This time Tomas nodded. His mistress seemed to have an instant grasp of the situation. Not for the first time he rejoiced at her quick thinking. This woman would have been a queen wherever she lived. The Sultan may have elevated her to royalty when she was a girl, but Gia had more than just a fancy title to recommend her. His already considerable admiration for her went up another notch.

“So what shall we do mistress?” he said quietly. “...I cannot just allow him to beach us on that wooded outcrop. He will have men there to intercept us. And then there is the question of the boat...I cannot sail it highness...I have no seamanship skills?”

“Hush Tomas” Gia said gently “...your other skills and loyalty have saved us once...and I have no doubt will do so again. Let me worry about the boat. You forget I was an island girl until those accursed slavers captured me. My father taught me as a child how to handle a sailing vessel...maybe a little smaller than this old bathtub...but...”

Tomas turned to regard her with astonishment. This woman, whom he loved as much as he had his mother, was endlessly full of surprises.

He tensed and made to get up to do what he had to. But Gia put her hand on his arm and stopped him.

“No Tomas...Abdul will be wary of you approaching him in the dark if he is trying to betray us. We cannot risk him using that filleting knife on you before you can strike. You are too precious to us all...to me especially. It is time I did something practical anyway?”

Tomas opened his mouth to protest, but it was already too late. Gia was slipping silently along the side of the barge, her feet making no sound as she lightly made her way to the rickety wheelhouse. Everything inside screamed at him to follow her. But she was right...at the first sign of him approaching, the fat bargee would be on high alert.

Gia reached the wheelhouse with a broad smile fixed on her face. From under her cloak, she produced a small flask with a flourish...something she knew would greatly please the barge master. There was very little alcohol in the palace...the Muslims forbade it for followers of the Prophet, peace be upon him, but a clever woman could sometimes flatter a small flask from one of the many traders who constantly arrived and left Constantinople, hopeful of a royal warrant for their goods. The spirit she carried in the flask was from Crete...an intense brew of fermented grapes they called ‘raki’. Its potency was legendary and she had originally intended to keep it in case of medical emergency. But it seemed tonight it was better sacrificed in the cause of disabling the bargee. Not as a soporific, but to reduce his alertness...just long enough…

Tomas waited with held breath as Gia disappeared under the canvas awning over the wheel. 

XXX

Back at the palace, the disturbed ant nest analogy was starting to change into something more organised. The Vizier was now quite dead...his corpulent body inert and as yet untouched on the floor of his office. The unfortunate physician and his unwilling assistant were very ill by now too. Both gasping for air and covered in the sort of lurid lesions that had killed the minister. The captain of the guard had placed a double watch on the doors and windows. No one was to enter or leave the apartments until the inevitable happened and the two men expired. None of his elite guard was anxious anyway to see first hand what had befallen their countrymen. Plague was still the most popular rumour, but gradually information and other opinions were coming from the other surgeons in the palace. Plague was a catch all description anyway...lots of lethal diseases were lumped together under that title...but the wiser and less excitable of them discounted the dreaded black death as the cause of the Viziers downfall. Poison too was being pushed to the back of their minds. No...this looked and sounded like an unknown disease that the Prime Minster had contracted from infected food. 

The food tasters were roughly interrogated, then executed summarily anyway. Their job was to give their lives for their master and at that they had failed. No matter it wasn’t their fault. The scimitar listens to no excuses. 

And then there was the matter of the Sultan himself. He had shared some of the Viziers breakfast and was now isolated in his chambers, attended only by a perspiring and terrified servant. The court head physician had attended him at first, but seeing the terrible symptoms develop so rapidly, knew straight away that it was certain death to be too close to the Sultan Pasha at this awful time. Nothing could be done for him anyway. He prescribed strong spirits to ease the pain, laced with Laudanam...a natural anaesthetic. Soon the Sultan was in a rambling, confused stupor. His eventual death would be relatively pain free but just as certain.

Which left his eldest son Murad in control of the palace. He immediately summoned his five younger brothers to the royal apartments and placed guards on the room they were confined to. They milled around in an agony of apprehension, white faced and fearful. The fate of younger sons on the succession of a new Sultan was often a lethal one. The wives and daughters of Selim along with Murad’s own family, was housed in yet another guarded room. There was some consternation amongst the courtiers when the 6th wife and her daughter were not to be found, but in the confusion no one troubled themselves too much at the beginning. One senior court official opined that the Sultana’s eunuch had probably secreted his mistress and her princess in a little used part of the palace until the source of the infection was found. One less problem to worry about for the royal prince….or Sultan to be.

Selim II died slowly...watched from the distant doorway by his dutiful eldest son. Once the unlucky servant attending him had confirmed that life was indeed extinct, a brief and perfunctory ceremony was held in the antechamber next door. With no Grand Vizier to preside, it was left to one of the more junior ministers to do it. In short order, Murad III was proclaimed the new Sultan of the sprawling Ottoman Empire. Within minutes of this, his younger brothers were taken one by one to a courtyard out of sight and sound of their mothers and strangled. The five corpses being burned in a pile shortly afterwards. They had been right to be apprehensive. Murad was not about to risk usurpers to his throne. Tradition demanded his brothers pay the price of his unplanned succession and they duly did so. 

The investigation into the outbreak of deadly infection began immediately. The remaining breakfast food and drink was tested on kitchen slaves, which proved nothing. With the plates and cutlery already washed in near boiling water, the real source of the calamity remained hidden for the time being. Several hours passed, during which some other servants started to show symptoms. Resolution for this problem was swift. No lingering death for these unfortunates. At the first sign of a lesion or coughing, they were taken by guards with vinegar soaked face masks to the same courtyard the unlucky royal sons had perished in hours before and dispatched with a single scimitar blow to the back of the neck. Seventeen men, girls and boys left this world in that manner before the authorities deemed the outbreak was contained. Unfortunately for the slave boy stealing scraps from the Viziers table, he was one of the first to be executed. Coughing like a person surrounded by smoke and writhing in pain, he almost felt like thanking the masked executioner for the mercy of the heavy blade as it neatly severed his small head. All the corpses were burned on the same spot.

It was well after nightfall when, after a thorough search of the entire palace, the absence of Gia, Naomi and the twins together with Tomas the eunuch was confirmed. The guards made another desultory sweep of the grounds before midnight, but it was decided then to wait till daybreak to resume the search proper. Given that Murad was now Sultan...Gia and Naomi were to be very minor royalty from now on. Not important enough for the alarm to be raised in Constantinople itself. Their luck stretched for another eight hours…

Down in the city, the neighbours of the twins parents, Nergis and Ramazan wondered idly why their house lights stayed off all evening, but the gossip about the deadly infection up in the Topkapi Palace was a far more compelling subject.

Soon, the city and palace slept….uneasily maybe, but slept.

XXX

“Naomi….no...someone might hear us?” Emi said in a low whisper. They were huddled together below deck against the front bulkhead as the creaky boat swished its way through the dark waters around them. Kati was already fast asleep, curled up on a bed of planks covered in thick cotton bales ten feet away. Gia and Tomas were still on deck...presumably keeping watch against any pursuers, but the two girls were more concerned with getting some privacy, even in this stinking tub...to kiss and hold each other. 

But Naomi was getting a little carried away. Gone was her recent reticence and coolness. Now that the Vizier was incapacitated, freedom from the prospect of marriage to him seemed to have boosted her libido considerably. 

Emi reluctantly pushed Naomi’s wandering hand out from under her cloak. Those clever fingers were creeping steadily up her thigh and in another inch or two….

Naomi pouted as her hand was pushed back onto her own leg.

“I thought you loved me” she complained theatrically, fluttering her long lashes for effect. 

Emily sighed.

“You know I love you more than life itself my sweet….but Kati could wake up...my mama or Tomas could find us here…?”

Naomi pouted a little over dramatically again.

“But Emi...angel...I want you...its been days since we could relax and enjoy each other properly. Now that that fat pig is dead, I feel free for the first time in many moons...come on...just touch me a little…here?”

She took Emi’s hand and again pushed it up between her legs. The smaller girt hissed in surprise at the heat coming from her lovers centre. They had left the palace in just gossamer thin day clothing...the heat of a Constantinople noon precluding anything heavier. Only the thick cloak now covered their near nakedness. As Naomi cupped Emi’s hand and pressed it firmly against her warmth, both girls groaned.

“Naomi...please?” Emi whispered, not entirely convincingly. Now she was gripping the object of her desire, all the twins good intentions seemed to fade into the background. Naomi ground herself greedily against Emi’s palm.

“Please Emi…?” the princess wheedled, using her own hand to push Emi’s middle finger harder against her. 

Their mouths met in a heated kiss, moaning into one another. Emi felt Naomi tug the thin material away from her body, then force the younger girl’s hand back against her bare skin. She groaned deep in her throat as slick moisture joined the heat. Her finger began to dance over Naomi’s slippery folds. Now the blondes hand left hers, confident that Emilia couldn’t resist any more, slipping under the other girls woollen cloak, pulling thin material aside and using her newly educated fingers to tease and penetrate. Kati was fast asleep, exhausted by the dramas of the day, but it was impossible to believe they could stop now anyway. Soon they were lying on the rough deck, hands busy between the others legs and mouths sighing breathlessly as they drove each other towards a shattering climax. Naomi came with Emi’s straight fingers buried inside her...deep inside her. In a more controlled moment, she might have paused at the tiny sharp pain which briefly interrupted her extreme pleasure, but a princesses precious virginity was not a matter she was concerned about at that moment. 

Emi orgasmed just as hard with Naomi’s fingertip lightly flicking the bud of her clitoris rapidly, the smaller girl clutching at her with a free hand and gasping out her delight.

Sated, they awkwardly clambered back to their feet, grinning bashfully at the others dishevelled appearance. Wrapping themselves inside the grimy cloaks again, neither girl took notice of a heavy splash beside the boat. Warm and sleepy now, they made their way to the wide bench of cotton bales Kati was lying on and found themselves a space. Within moments, holding each other tightly...they slept too.

XXX

Tomas waited with mounting anxiety as his mistress continued to talk in low tones to the barge master. He could hear no words, but by the deep rumbles of amusement coming from the darkened wheelhouse, he had no doubt she was using a mixture of flattery and flirtation to give the man a false sense of security. He had no doubt Gia was skilled at this game. After all, she’d been schooled in the subtle arts in the Sultan’s own harem. The fact that she had not only survived, but prospered so well was testament to her ability to disarm, to cajole. 

Then there was a silence that lasted several seconds and then a surprised grunt and the sound of struggle. Tomas tensed and stood up, ready assist with his honed blade if necessary, but after another moment, the figure of Gia emerged from the gloom. She walked towards him with a grim expression on her face. Then he noticed her sleeve was covered in blood from wrist to shoulder. He ran to her across the flat boards, stopping just in front of her. Her face was set in a pale frown.

“Are you hurt, my lady?” he whispered urgently. Gia shook her head.

“No...but the master is dead Tomas...I gutted him with his own knife. Better we push him overboard before one of the girls comes up to see what the noise was about?”

Tomas didn’t answer. His only concern was for his mistresses safety. Swiftly, he passed her and entered the wheelhouse. The fat bargee was slumped over the bulkhead, blood pooling around him. It looked like he had attempted to hold in his own intestines after Gia had slit his stomach wide. He had a surprised look on his face, and Tomas noted with disgust that his filthy pantaloons were pulled down to his knees. He did not need an explanation to understand what his Sultana had used as bait.

Straining to hold the bulky man upright, hands slippery with blood, Tomas carried the corpse to the side and heaved it overboard. There was a heavy splash as the man hit the surface of the water, but in the moonlight, he could see that the body had not yet sunk as the boat carried on ahead. There was another sound of splashing as they left the seaman to his last rest. Three triangular fins were already circling the bloody corpse by the time the gentle swell hid the sight. 

Gia was sitting by the bow as Tomas finished using seawater to mop blood from the deck and toss overboard the rags he had used to clean the bulkhead and wheel. She looked up as he came along the side.

“It is a terrible thing Tomas...to kill a man. But he would have seen us sold into slavery...or worse. I had no choice?”

Tomas sat beside the Sultana, keeping his voice low. He knew all too well how the shock of ending a life affects people.

“Mistress...we have all had to do things we will dream of in the future...but hope is alive still.. we must keep the barge on course for the port. Are you able to go back to the wheelhouse yet?...I fear we have drifted a little closer to the shore...better that the welcoming committee Abdul had planned for our landfall do not see us?”

She nodded and without answering him, got up and stiffly walked to the boats stern. The charts were still on the table by the large wheel and someone had to pilot this stinking tub to their destination…

The three girls slept on...unaware of the drama that had played out above their heads. By the time dawn threw fingers of pale light over the horizon, the barge was at the mouth of the Marmaris sea. Ahead lay either freedom or death...but whatever it was...it was closer. 

XXX


End file.
